Heathens
by annieDD
Summary: Heathen: an irreligious, uncultured, or uncivilized person. Her whole world turned upside down. She lost the love of her life and dead started rising. No matter where you are or what you do, you are not safe. Not in a world when it all comes down to one simple sentence: Kill or be killed. OC, Quinn Greene, Hershel's eldest daughter. Strong language. Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there and welcome to my first Walking Dead story. If you are here because you read the first version, I owe you a bit of an explanation. I didn't like it. It was too slow, too dramatic, too "Mary Sue". And I decided not to torture you or myself anymore. So, here we go again. Same girl, same story. Quinn Greene, Hershel's eldest daughter. THIS ONE, THIS STORY starts right where the other one ended, so I wouldn't say it was a waste of time reading it. And if you are reading this later on, you should know I deleted that story 24h after publishing this one. I just had to do it. THIS is me. THAT one was overly dramatic me. This story is better. It starts with a bit more action, without such a detailed backstory. I like this start much, much better, and I hope you do as well. I have to bore you a little bit now: please, if you like the story (or hate it), take your time to review it if you want to. Those of you who write stories know how difficult it is to continue when you have no idea if people actually like it or not. And I'm open for any suggestions and ideas. This is your story as much as it is mine.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. I will be updating soon. (khm, soon = day or two) :)**

 **Much love, AnnieDD**

I open my eyes to find the sunlight shining directly on my face. I frown, turning on my side.

I wish I was reliving one of those movie moments when the main character wakes up, not knowing where he or she is, or how did he or she end up there. I'm not having that moment. I know exactly where I am. And even better than that, I know exactly how I got here.

My childhood bedroom did not change much, I must admit. There was still a cool ass Oasis poster on the wall. My bed still had way too many pillows on it, much more than I needed. There was still one whole wall, dedicated mostly to the photographs of my friends and family.

I remember the day I walked back into this room, after being away from it for four years. I remember it, clear as day, as I don't think I was ever surprised as I was then. I was so sure Dad would change it, destroy it even.

And he didn't. Everything was exactly the same as it was the way I left it. The only change was that it was much cleaner now.

I left with a big bang that day. If my kid acted that way to me, I'm not sure if I would have done the same thing Hershel did. But to the defense of an 18 year old me, part of it was Dad's fault.

I think Annette and Maggie must have had something to do with it. As headstrong as he is, Dad always had a soft spot for his wife and his middle child.

When I came back, for the first time, when I was 22, it was the same as it was the day that I left. When I came back again a year later, it was still the same. And now, about 6 years since the day I left, it's still the same as I left it. The only real, noticeable change was the framed photo, staring right at me.

I grab it from the nightstand. This was Maggie's doing, or maybe Beth's.

Julia took this photo some two years ago. It's one of those candid, casual, spontaneous photos that you parade for years, because no matter how hard you try to recreate it, it never really works like it did then.

James and I, laughing like the idiots that we were. I'm leaning onto him and he has his arm around me, and our genuine laughter is frozen as proof, forever. All we're missing is Santa hats and a nice Christmas tree behind us, and it would make a perfect holiday card, that your acquaintances could laugh at before throwing it in the garbage and going back to their equally perfect lives.

James and I were not the types for holiday cards. We were too cool for that.

My God, were we cool! We were the ultimate power couple. We didn't need anyone but each other. We would binge watch shitty TV shows, we would go to concerts and gigs at least once a month, and we would make each other laugh every bloody day. We made each other happy.

And now that's gone.

Not stopping to consider my actions, I throw that frame directly at the wall, with all the strength I had in me. It's not much, but I still manage to make the frame shatter all around the old, wooden floorboards.

It makes a perfect metaphor. It used to be a whole thing, and now, it's shattered into a thousand little pieces that no matter how hard you tried, you could never really glue back together.

And that's kind of what I feel like right now.

Throwing that frame was not one of my brightest moments. Not only did I regret doing it as soon as I did it, but I draw attention to myself. I hear footsteps just seconds after the frame hit the wall.

"Quinn, what the hell?" Maggie asks as she barges into my room. It doesn't take her long to find the source of the noise I made. She looks at me as she picks up the photo out of the broken glass. I shrug.

I don't care. I did it, and that's the way it is. Granted, I should not have done it, but I should not have seen it either. I was not ready to be met face to face with something that no longer exists.

"How long was I out?" I ask her. Judging by my voice, it's been days; my throat is so dry I can barely talk.

"Three days, in and out." Maggie tells me, getting up from the floor." I'm gonna go get you a glass of water. Don't break anything else while I'm away, please." She tells me, and the only reaction she gets from me, is a middle finger which she ignores. She doesn't close the door after her, but she is back.

I did not even realize how thirsty I was until I took the first sip. I down the whole glass in seconds.

"Is there anything wrong with me?" I ask her when she takes the empty glass from me.

"No. You were just exhausted. But now I think you might be having a nervous breakdown." She tells me.

"I'm not." I reassure her, as I sit up in my bed." I'm okay. As okay as I can be, given the current situation. I just did not want to look at that photo. I will clean it up, don't worry." I tell her.

"Quinn, what happened?" she asks me." You said things, but you were in shock and out of breath, and you fainted in the middle of a sentence. The only thing we know is that James…"

"Is dead." I said, finishing her sentence instead of her." That's really the only plot twist that matters. We landed on the Atlanta airport and we were still there when it started. It was one big mess. We both knew that it was a bad idea to stay there, even though we were the only ones moving in the other direction. I don't even know how long we were out there. Long story short, it wasn't easy, but we got up to the highway, just miles from here. He found a bike and was trying to find some gas, in case we need it. They got to him. The last thing he said to me was to go to the farm, which is what I did." I tell her.

I am cheap on details. I tell her only what she needs to know and I keep the rest to myself. For one, I do not want her to know what James and I had to do in order to get on the highway in the first place. And two, I have no idea what the hell is happening with them over here. With any luck, they were away from all of what James and I had to go through. And last, but not least, I don't want to relieve it, not yet.

"Jesus, Quinn, I'm so sorry." Maggie tells me, and when I look at her, I see tears in her eyes. I smile.

"I know honey. And I'm sorry too." I say. I feel the tears fill up my eyes. I haven't done much crying in the last three days, as I was basically comatose, but apparently, I'm about to catch up on it. And Maggie pulling me in a tight hug is not helping me keep myself together.

"You're safe now." She mumbles and I nod my head." You'll be safe here with us. You're home."

"Oh Maggie, how can it be home without him?" I ask her and her squeeze only becomes tighter.

"Honey, you have us. You will always have us." She tells me as she pulls away and I nod. That is the only silver lining I can see right now. At least I still have them. My family may be missing one very important chunk of it right now, but at least I have the bigger part with me." Dad's out, so he can't check on you, but he told me that if you wake up, you shouldn't leave your bed. You still need your rest."  
"Leave it to Hershel, to be bossy even from a safe distance." I mumble and Maggie smiles at me.

"Come on, he knows what he's talking about. You've been through a lot. You didn't eat much while you were on your way here, did you?" She asks and I shake my head." Exactly. You need time to rest, to get some of your strength back. And you also need time to grief." She adds and I actually laugh this time.

"Maggie, my fiancé was ripped apart and eaten alive right in front of me." I say and I actually see her wince. I went into too much detail. Shit. I imagined she had a good idea of what happened to him." That will not be fixed with a couple of days of bed rest. But I'll do it. Dad says I should do it, so I'll do it. But if you don't want me to move from my bed, you'd better bring me something to eat, because I'm starving and I'm minutes away from running downstairs to raid the fridge." I say and my sister smiles at me.

"Okay. I'll be right back."

…

I open my eyes and I realize that it is dark outside. I look at my bedside table and I see a glass of orange juice, as well as a sandwich. Raising myself up, I look to the other side of the room. There's no broken glass on the floor. No glass, no frame, no photo.

I must have been out of it by the time Maggie was back with my food.

Food!

I can feel pain in my arm and I know they must have given me an IV or two. After all, they had to keep me alive somehow, and I was already starving when I got here, not having eaten a proper meal in days before. I grab that sandwich, and damn, it tastes better than the finest NY strip steak I've ever had.

Good old, homemade, ham. It would taste amazing even if I wasn't as hungry as I am.

And now I really need a cigarette.

I get up. I know Dad gave me instructions not to do so, but I'm hardly gonna walk a long way. I walk over to my backpack, which still had one pack in it; a pack I was rationing. I do a quick count, realizing that 11 cigarettes isn't such a bad situation. Well, ten, as I lean on my open window and light one.

My mom died when I was very young; I was only seven. I did not understand the concept of grief, not back then. The only thing I really knew was that I don't have a mom anymore. It was not easy. Hell, it was, to this day, the most difficult thing I ever had to deal with, mainly because I didn't understand.

Okay, I don't have a mom anymore. But why? Why won't she tuck me in anymore? Why won't she make me breakfast? Why won't she teach me how to bake chocolate chip cookies? Why? Why? Why?

Of course, when I grew up, I knew why. I did not like it, and I did not find it fair, by any means, but at least I could understand that my mom was ill. And that that's a perfect example of life being a bitch.

I was fortunate enough not to lose anyone else, not until a couple of days ago. I was estranged from a part of my family for years, but not talking to my Dad can't compare to losing your loved one.

Here I am now, 24, faced with grief, and this time around, I understand the concept. And I still wonder why. Why did this happen to me? Why James? Why has our whole world gone to shit? Why did the dead start rising and start using the living ones as food? Why did I have to see it? Why? Why? Why?

This time around, I have no answers. "That's the way life is" is no longer an acceptable answer. James was not ill. He was healthy as a horse, young and full of life. "That's the way life is" does not cover people being eaten alive by what used to be another human being. It simply doesn't cover it.

I always thought of myself as independent, and now I have to face the fact that I am not.

I relied too much on James. For everything.

And I don't mean that he was always there to fix the kitchen sink, or change a flat tire. I relied on him as a constant presence in my life. I did not even stop and imagine my life without him.

I always knew he would die eventually. It's just that I did not expect it to happen this fast. And I suppose I kind of always thought I would be the first to go. Why, I don't know.

For the last three years, he was in my life constantly. Every single day. I never imagined my life without him. It's only now that I realize just how much I needed him.

I guess that's the way it works. You think you know, but then you lose them. And it's a different story.

I can't believe this is my life now. I don't know what to do anymore. I simply don't know.

"You will never quit, will ya?" I jump at the sound of Dad's voice. I did not see him or hear him, but when I turn around, he is there. Looking as worried as ever, with a small smile on his old face.

I throw out the cigarette out of the window and I walk over to him. He stares at me, for a couple of seconds, before opening his arms. I can't remember the last time I hugged him like this.

"How are you feeling, Quinn?" He asks me as I pull away from the hug.  
"Sad. Empty. Yeah, it's mostly just emptiness. James died, but I'm the one who's dead on the inside."

"I'm very sorry, Quinn." He tells me and I nod.

"It's okay. There's nothing you or me could do about it. We did our best out there. It wasn't easy and we did things neither one of us was proud of. It almost worked. But he's dead and I'm still alive."

"Do you want us to have a funeral?" Dad asks me and I actually start laughing.

"Why? It's not like I have anything to bury." I say, shaking my head." Besides, James wasn't religious, you know that."  
"Funerals are more for the living than they are for the dead."  
"Yeah, I know. But I also know it wouldn't give me any closure. I won't get that, no matter what I do."  
"Time might give you that." Dad says with a sigh." I remember when your mother died. It was just like you described it; empty. You feel empty. I also thought I could not get any closure, not then, not in the future. But after a while, I did. And I found happiness again."

"Dad, if you're suggesting the "you will love again" direction of a conversation, I'm not interested."  
"Neither was i. not for years. But eventually, I was."  
"I don't think I'll live long enough to love again." I say. Seeing him wince is not something I am used to.

"I thought you and I might disagree on that." He says as he sits on the edge of my bed.

"Disagree on what?" I ask him, folding my arms. It seems as if he is the child, and I am the parent, not the other way around. Sadly, I have reasons to act this way.

Hershel Greene and I disagreed a lot, ever since I was old enough to form my own opinions. We did not agree on the little things, and we didn't agree on the big things. Sometimes it was nothing important; we would drop it in a matter of minutes. Other times, it would last for days, weeks, hell, even months.

But not once, _not once,_ did he warn me about a disagreement beforehand.

"You are a smart girl. Always have been. You chose not to believe in God." He starts and I stop him.

"No, I chose to step away from religion, not from God. If you ever bothered to listen to me, you would have heard me say that I am simply not sure of anything. I'm not a believer, I'm not an atheist. On the other hand, I'm a strongly imposed of someone pushing either one of those two choices on children."

He knows that, he knows exactly what I mean. And I don't want to have that conversation again.

"That is not a discussion I want to have, not again." he tells me.

"Good, because I don't want it either."

"My point is… My point is that you would not see faith as a way out of this." he says. I frown.

"As a way out of what?" I ask." Out of what's going on out there?" I ask, pointing to the window." Dad, I'm not sure how much time you spent out there, if you even spent any time out there at all. I was out there for days. Believe me when I tell you, God will not pull us out of this one." I say, shaking my head.

"He might."

Blindsided. That's how I feel. Blindsided.

Hershel is a man of faith and I respect that. I respect and understand that. I guess I just thought he was not blinded by it. I thought he was reasonable enough to realize that getting on your knees and praying to Jesus won't do you any good.

"Well, if God is real, than I'm sorry to inform you, but your daughter's going to hell."  
"What did you do?" He asks me and I chuckle.  
"What did I do? Dad, rules don't apply. Rules don't matter anymore. There are no rules. The only thing that matters is whether or not your goals are more evil than good. American laws, God's laws, it all went down the drain, big time. It's a jungle out there. It's like a reality show that had gotten out of control, only the whole world's in it, and there's no real end. People die, Dad. People die, a lot."

"What did you do?" He asks me again.

"I did what needed to be done. I did what needed to be done in order to get here. To get to you, to get to safety. I lost James, and I would not say it was successful, but I did what needed to be done. I stole, I lied, I killed." I admit. I thought I was familiar with Hershel Greene's look of disappointment, but this was on a whole other level." Oh, don't look at me like that! I didn't kill any human beings!"

"But you killed those who were infected."  
"Yes, because it needed to be done! They would have killed me. They killed James, for fuck's sake, I don't think I should be justifying myself to anyone, not even you! I did what I had to do. I did not like it, and I would rather not do it again, but I had no choice. I would be dead if I made a different choice!"

"Quinn, those are sick people. Sick people who need a cure." Dad tells me. Well, shit.  
"A cure?" I ask him and he nods." You think we could come back from this one?"

"People thought AIDS was a death sentence. We evolved. Medicine evolved."  
"Yes, because there were people to develop medicine, to do the necessary research and test. We were able to make progress because the whole world was functioning normally. Dad, everyone out there is either dead or doing the best they can not to end up dead. You can't expect a cure for this if there is no one out there to make a cure. Did you even see those things? Did you get a good look at them? Because I did. They are not human. They do not talk; there is nothing in them, no soul, no mind. Only the basic functions. They walk, they eat. And they chose us as their favorite meal. Dad, there's no cure." I say.

I did not have enough time to think about this situation. It seemed impossible to me.

He could keep his faith and see things the way they are.

This must be denial. In reality, I can't blame him. If I was on this farm from the start, if I hadn't lost James to those things, I probably would have been in the same place he is no. I'd be in denial too. I would think there might be a cure coming; I would think that those things are just ill, ill and waiting for a cure, not ill without any possibility of going back to what they once were.

The broadcast stopped. They bombed Atlanta. Those things killed James. If I was in denial after all of that, I would proclaim myself clinically insane.

"I have to hold on to something, Quinn."  
"Then hold on to your common sense."

"I am."  
"You won't call this common sense when you see Maggie or Beth being ripped apart in front of you."  
"That won't happen." He says, shaking his head.

"Wow. It's even worse than I thought." I say, impressed at my own stupidity. I really should have expected this. I should have known better. If I had time to do so, I would probably realize that Dad will be in some sort of denial. I guess I was just too focused on getting here in one piece." We can't make each other see things the way we see them. And that's okay. Sooner or later, we will see things the same way. I can only hope that that'll come sooner, rather than later."

"One more thing we disagree on?" He asks me and I smile at him.  
"Yeah, guess so. So long as you and the rest of the family are safe, I'll handle some disagreement."

"I should go. You still need rest. We will talk more in the morning, alright?" He asks me and I nod. He kisses me on the head as he walks towards the door; one more thing that hasn't happened in a very long time." I am truly sorry about James. He was a good man, and he deserved better. You deserved better. And I am glad you are here now."  
"Me too, Dad." I say, and as soon as he closes the door, panic starts.

All this time, all the time James and I were trying to make our way to the farm, I thought that this place is 100% safe. It could be, it really could. But it's not. Not now, not that I know where Hershel stands.

He is in denial, and it's going to take a big ass shock to shake him out of it.

I'm not safe here. My family is not safe here. God, I should just be happy he's not trying to be friends with those things! So long as he doesn't see the danger we're living in, the reality of this whole situation we are in, this farm's not going to be a safe place.

I need to make him see things my way. Not because it's my way, but because it's the world's way now.

Everything has changed. Just like I told them, there are no rules anymore. It's pure survival out there. And Hershel needs to know that. I can only hope he'll learn that lesson as soon as possible.

To think I planned to give myself some "time off". To grieve properly. To spend a few days, maybe even weeks, crying after James, reminiscing of what we were and imagining what we could have been. I thought I'd have the luxury to do that, and I was a fool.

I have to step right back into survival mode. Do whatever needs to be done. Make them see things as they actually are, but try not to make them hate your guts in the process.

This is gonna be more difficult than the journey to here from Atlanta was.

This is the true test. And I have no choice apart from winging it. I'm screwed. I'm so, so screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

Most of my treasured possessions are photographs and concert tickets; material versions of memories. I held onto those like my life depended on it. It is not easy to accept that I simply don't have them now.

They're all in my apartment, back in London. In a big, heart shaped box I kept under the bed.

I haven't stayed in this house for more than two weeks for about 6, 7 years. I did not keep my most treasured possessions here; I kept it in the place I lived in, not my childhood home. I should thank my lucky stars I did not bring them all with me when I left. I at least have something. And that one photo, of James and me, it's not the only one. I would send a few photos to Maggie, every now and then, and she found a place for them. In the living room, in her own room or on my big "memory wall".

Yes, most of it is gone and out of my reach, but I at least have something.

When looking at these things, you can't help but laugh. Especially at the Daisy Dukes I thought were a good choice when I was 16. No wonder Hershel thought I was an antichrist. Thank God I got into my dark faze fast after that photo was taken.

Maggie and I, sitting on Dad's old truck. I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure we stole it that day.

It was always the two of us. I was the lead troublemaker, with Maggie following my every move. We caused Hershel a lot of headaches, but we had fun. Damn, did we have fun! Everyone in school knew of the Greene sisters. We weren't the IT group or anything like that. It's hard to have an IT group in rural Georgia. We were simply known as those chicks that smoke, steal their Daddy's car and listen to good music. And frankly, that was a reputation I could live with.

I never got to do anything like that with Beth, and that's something that still troubles me.

Maggie and I are only two years apart, while I was eight when Beth was born. She was only 10 when I left home, and by the time she entered troublemaking age, I was being a grown up on another continent. The two of us completely missed each other. Maggie and I were a dream team. We still are. But I kind of wish Beth was in it to. Especially because she and Maggie have this amazing connection, and I'm the one whose left hanging when it comes to Beth.

That has to be the only thing I regret about the whole leaving situation. I never got to be her sister.

Not to mention that her earliest memories of me probably involve Hershel and me screaming at each other, and me being, well, mean to her Mom. I'm lucky Annette's such a good person. I'm also lucky I didn't get a chance to burn that bridge all the way down; it was easier to start building it again.

I burst out laughing when I bump into one Halloween photo: Shawn went as Waldo, Maggie went as Lara Croft and I went as Madonna; 80's Madonna. I can't tell if it's funny or if it's tragic.

James and I, drunk out of our minds, in Barcelona, two years ago.

Beth and I, sitting on the porch. She looks about three years old, and I'm in my pre-teen faze.

Beth, Shawn, Maggie and I, group photo, with the house behind us. Judging by the look on my face, I'd say that it was taken around the time I hit puberty.

Maggie and I in Atlanta, last year, her 21st birthday. Good God, I thought we were gonna die that night.

James, Annette, Dad and I, in the living room, about three years ago. That one was taken just a few days after they met him for the first time. First man I ever brought back home to meet "The Hershel".

I'm glad I can look at these photos and smile. It still hurts, it hurts like hell, but I'd much rather remember things the way they used to be before shit hit the fan.

The feeling of emptiness is still there, unfortunately. I'm guessing it'll be there for a long, long time.

It could not get better than James. He was it. I know it, I knew it when I said yes to his proposal, I know it now, I feel it in my bones. There's no chance it could ever get better with anyone else. It could never be as good as it was with him. That guy made me who I am. He shaped me in more ways than he ever knew. Even if the world suddenly becomes the place it used to be, James would still be the champion.

There's one good side to this all. I don't have to move on. I just don't. There's no pressure, nor will there be. I'm on my own, and that's just the way it is now. There'll be no biological clock worries, Tinder dates or rebounds. This is just the way things will be from now on. I won't have to go through any sort of transition. In all honesty, my days are probably still counted.

And I'm okay with that. Of course, I know that I probably shouldn't be okay with that, but I am. That's the way my life will be now: pretty empty. It sucks, but I'll live.

That's the point. I'll live. Maybe not long, but at least for a little while.

Last night, I thought about suicide. I thought about killing myself. I thought about it for 30 seconds.

One, I'd kill my Dad. In killing myself, I'd kill him too. Hershel and I may have a rough history, but I'm his daughter. If I was to kill myself, I don't know what he'd do. I'm not even gonna mention Maggie. I could probably kill her too, if I was to do that. Second of all, that's not my thing. It's really not. I'm not the type who gives up easily, no matter how difficult the obstacle might be. I'll analyze the shit out of it and try every possible way to overcome it, before I even think of giving up. And last, but definitely not least, James is dead. And he died trying to get me here. His last words were, quite literally, an order for me to get to the farm. Right now, his death doesn't have much meaning. It's a death that never should have happened. But if I was to end my life, it would all be in vain. And I can't do to him. I can't just spit and kick the memory of him. It took me less than 30 seconds to realize that that will never be an option.

Realistically speaking, I only have one real option. I have to keep swimming. It will not be easy. It will take me a lot of time, and I'm guessing that the emptiness will follow me until my dying day, but I'll do it. I'll do my best to keep on swimming. Even if the water scares the shit out of me right now.

So I get up. I get out of my bed, I put the photos away or back on the wall, I get dressed and I start my day. I swim.

As soon as I walk downstairs, I hear voices. I smile, knowing one of them belongs to Beth. Dad and Maggie were the only ones that visited me. I haven't seen Beth, not since the moment I got here, when she was the first one to see me and alerted the rest of the family. And we didn't talk much then.

By pure reflex, I skip the second to last stair. That is the one that makes a creek, and basically warns the whole house that someone is coming down or up the stairs. When I was sneaking out, whether with Maggie or by myself, I would always skip that one, knowing that it would undoubtedly wake up Dad or someone else in the house. I guess I just got used to skipping it. And no matter how much time I spend away from home, skipping that one step is a natural reaction I will always remember instantly.

I walk over to the living room, where I see Beth, her back turned to me, talking to a guy I've never seen before. He sees me in front of the room, and Beth noticed that something drew his attention from her. When she turns around, her eyes go wide. Even though she already knew I was back home.

"Hi." I say with a small smile and a pathetic wave. What do you say to your sister just days after you probably scared her to death, screaming and yelling? Beth's not like Maggie; Maggie got a chance to see me in every possible situation. She had the front row seat. Drunk, angry, happy, sad, total nervous breakdown; Maggie has seen it all. I can't say the same for Beth. I start to get nervous when she doesn't make a move, or say anything. She just stares at me. But then, she starts walking towards me, and she pulls me in for a hug. A much stronger hug than I expected from a gentle, tiny creature like she is.

"I'm so sorry. James was a great guy." She whispers as she hugs me. I hug her back with all the strength I have in me. How did it get to this? When did she grow up? She may be young, but she sure as hell isn't a kid anymore. I'll never get over the fact that I wasn't there for her. I'll always resent myself for not being the big sister she deserved. At least she had Maggie; Maggie is a much better older sister than I am.

"Thank you, Beth. It means a lot. He adored you." I mumble as she pulls away. James loved my entire family; he just jumped right in the whole picture. He actually fitted in that picture better than I ever did. It didn't make any sense to me; they had absolutely nothing in common. I never thought it would be rough and difficult, but even with just two visits under our belt; he really was a part of the family.

"Quinn, this is Jimmy." She tells me, nodding at the boy behind us." He is my boyfriend. He's been staying with us since it all started. Jimmy, this is Quinn. My older sister; you know all about her."

"It's nice to meet you Jimmy." I tell him as I shake his hand." I genuinely hope you don't know all about me." I add and as soon as both Beth and Jimmy start laughing, I know that he's heard more than enough. To be fair, I was the one who brought all the fun to the dinner table.

"Why are you up on your feet?" Beth asks me, looking worried." Daddy said you needed rest."

"And he's probably right, but I'm hardly running track, am I? I think I can rest just as good in the living room." I say as I take a seat on the couch. Beth sits next to me, and Jimmy takes the armchair." Besides, I don't like being on my own. Not after everything that's happened. I prefer to have some company."

"What's it like out there?" Jimmy asks me and I notice Beth giving him an angry look. It's not like he asked me to go into fine detail. The boy meant no harm, but he should have a bit more tact.

"It's rough." I tell him. That's all I say on it, if I have a say in it at all. Beth might have just grown up while I was away, but she's not ready to know this. And even if she was, I'm not ready to say it to her. I feel bad enough; I don't want to be the one that destroys her hope. I don't need to discuss this with her in order to know that she shares Dad's opinion. The two of them are too similar too each other; she is his daughter through and through. Maggie can go "Hershel" at times, but she's an individual. And I am just a piece of work. The regular black sheep of the family. Well, at least they still love me.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat? Do you need a pillow?" Beth asks and I start laughing.

"Betty, I'm okay." I say with a smile." You can relax. Actually, do we have any coffee?" I ask her.

"No, no, no, I'll get it for you." She says as she pushes me back on the couch I laugh as she runs to the kitchen. Jimmy and I share a look and we both shake our heads. She may be Hershel's daughter through and through, but she got that caring personality directly from Annette." Milk and sugar both, right?"

"If we have any, yeah." I yell back at her. Jesus! Coffee, milk, sugar? And just days ago, James and I were trying to ration a bottle of water. It's almost as if this farm is a whole different world, a world on its own. It's easier to forget it here; how bad it can get out there. Luckily, I have a very vivid image scared in my brain. There really is no need to worry about me forgetting how ugly it can get.

"Here you go." She tells me as she hands me my coffee; in my favorite, gigantic blue mug too.

"Thank you, honey." I say. I take one sip before getting up on my feet. Beth jumps up as soon as I do.

"Stay here, I'll get them for you." She says, and before I could stop her, she runs straight to the stairs.

"Where'd she go?" Jimmy asks me, looking just about as confused as I imagine I look.

"If she went to go and get what I think, then she's either a mind reader or she knows me better than I think she does." I mumble. And second later, Beth runs back down the stairs, handing me my Lucky's. She really can read minds.

"Where is everyone else?" I ask her and she smiles at me.

"It's just us now. Maggie went to town and the rest are working." She tells me.

"I'm sorry; did you just say Maggie went to town?" I ask and she nods. Just like that, just like it was a regular Sunday." Is that safe?"

"Yeah, she's been before." Beth nods, smiling." It's empty, that's true, but she says it's safe."  
"What Maggie says or thinks might not be the real situation." I mumble. I'll have to talk to her about that when she comes back. Going away from the farm should be done only if it's completely necessary; only if it's a life or death situation.

"Dad wouldn't let her go if it wasn't safe." Beth tells me.

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if Dad knows what's safe or not."

"Beth, have you seen… Quinn?" Patricia asks in complete surprise when she walks in the room and sees me sitting with Beth and Jimmy. She smiles and rushes towards me." Ugh, it's so good to see you."

"I know." I say and she starts laughing." I've missed you. It sure feels good to be back."

"It's nice to see you're back up on your feet, but Hershel said you need rest." She tells me as she pulls away. Bam. It takes Patricia ten seconds to jump back into mom mode. Or aunt mode, at least.

"I'm resting. I'm just sitting on a couch, drinking coffee, catching up with you. It's not that physically challenging." I grin. They all worry too much. If I feel bad, or dizzy or anything similar, I'll rest.

"I know, but there's a reason Hershel wants you to rest in your bed." Patricia tells me.

"Yes, and I am old enough to know that I feel well enough to leave my room. I wasn't injured; I had a traumatic experience. And being bedridden can't really fix one of those."

"Quinn, Hershel knows what he's talking about. If he says you're bedridden, you're bedridden."  
"Hershel is a vet. Not a doctor. And one more time, I'm not injured. I'm also not a kid, so you can't really tell me what to do. Now, that's all I'll say on the subject. If Hershel has a complaint, he can discuss it with me, and I'll explain it to him too. You can get pissed off and run off and tell him I'm not following his instructions, or you can sit down and talk to me, which is a version I prefer, because I really did miss my family, and I really am happy to be back. So what are we gonna do?" I ask her.

"Fine." Patricia says after staring at me for a few seconds." You can stay here. But I can't; I have work to do. We will catch up later, okay? It's nice to have you back, even if you're still as rebellious as ever."  
"Oh, I'm not rebellious. I just don't want to be stuck in my room." I tell her with a shrug. She laughs.

"Yup. Same as ever. I'll see you three later on. And sit back down, please. At least just sit." She warns me, and I throw my hands up in the air as I theatrically sit back down. She walks away, shaking her head.

For about half an hour, I sit and talk to Beth and Jimmy. Apparently, the two of them have been dating for about two months when it all started. That's why I didn't know about him; he was so knew, Beth didn't even have the time to tell me about him. It's either that, or she didn't think he's important enough for her to tell me about him. And I'm not sure which of the two is worse.

Sure, it's nice to have someone with you through it all, but two months? If this all happened when James and I were together for just two months, I don't know if we'd handle one day before going or separate ways. Or we'd lose our minds while trying to stick together. Of course here, on the farm, it's different. It's safe. They simply had to spend all of their time together; that's the only real change.

"I told you to rest." Hershel says as soon as he marches in the house.

"Dad, I'm okay. I mean it, I feel fine." I say, trying to hold back my natural response, which was to get in a fight with him. That's what I always did, that's how the two of us would work. He would try to make me see it his way; I never wanted to see things his way, and in about ten seconds, BOOM. I really was holding back now. I'm not a kid anymore. And maybe, just maybe, if I don't act like a kid, he'll realize it too, and just maybe, he'll stop treating me like one. I'm trying really hard to be mature here.

"It doesn't matter. You need to take it easy for a couple of days." He tells me, persistent as ever.

"I am taking it easy. I'm just sitting and talking. I'm not running around the place. I'm taking it easy. I feel okay. I'm healthy and I don't want to be stuck up in my room. Relax, Dad. I'm okay. Relax and let me do something nice. A lot of bad things happened lately, and I'm happy that I'm with all of you now. Let me make lunch. Annette and Patricia can help, so I won't tire myself even more."

"Annette is busy. And so is Patricia." He tells me.

"Fine, I'll do it myself. It's no problem at all." I tell him.

"No. We all have better things to do."

"Then let me help. Let me help out. Where is everyone? Otis? Annette? Shawn?"

"Mom is in the barn." Beth says behind me.

"I can help in the barn." I say with a shrug.

"Quinn, you can't." Dad tells me. I turn to look at Beth, to see if she'll stick up for me, but she, incredibly obviously, looks away. As does Jimmy. Patricia doesn't, but she's not helping me either.

"Dad, what's going on? Where's everyone?"

"Otis is hunting, Maggie has gone to town and Annette and Shawn are in the barn." He tells me.

"They're in the barn?"

"Yes." He tells me. Now, Hershel and I don't have some sort of special connection. We had our fights, a lot of them. It was not always easy. In fact, it was incredibly difficult. But he's my Dad. And bottom line, I love him. I love him despite of everything. It was partially my fault, after all. I still love him and I know him. I know he wouldn't lie to me, just as I know that he definitely would keep things from me.

"So, if I go now to the barn, I'll see them. Maybe help them?" I ask as I start to walk to the door.

"Quinn, no!" Dad snaps at me, and I turn around.  
"Dad, are Annette and Shawn dead?"

I didn't need an answer. I could see it on his face. I could see it on Patricia. Hell, I could hear Beth sobbing. It looks as if the whole world stopped, for good.

"They're one of those things, aren't they?" I ask, and when Hershel doesn't say anything, I know I'm right. It felt as if an invisible fist just punched the air out of my stomach." And you're…. You're keeping them in the barn?" I mumble, still trying really hard to control my reactions.  
"Quinn, they are sick. And we will keep them alive until they find a cure." Dad tells me.

Oh God. Oh dear God. He thinks… they all think… and Annette and Shawn… in the barn? It's not safe. The farm is not safe. I won't freak out. I won't freak out. I won't freak out because if I freak out, I'll throw away any progress I made with him. Not that I made any progress at all. Despite everything I told him, despite everything he's seen, he still thinks there's a cure. And the whole family agrees.

Now I at least understand why. Annette and Shawn. If they believe that there's no cure, they'll have to accept the fact that Annette and Shawn are dead. They'll have to accept and morn and move on. I can't really blame them for choosing a pipe dream.

Still, it's a pipe dream. They're not gonna get any better. They are dead. They are gone.

"What are you doing?" Patricia asks me as I walk past them to get to the kitchen. I turn on the water heater and grab a mug from the cabinet.

"Quinn?" Dad asks me.

"I'm making tea." I mumble in response. That minute it took for the water to boil seemed like the longest minute of my life. But it boiled. With my green tea in hand, I walk back, ignoring their worried looks." I'll be in my room. I need some time. Please, don't come." I mumble as I walk back upstairs.

Instead of walking in my own room, I walk into Maggie's. I kneel by her bed and but my hand under it, feeling up the boards, knowing this was her stash hiding place. I find a small bottle, pull it out, and see that it's vodka. With Hershel's "no alcohol in the house" policy, we kids had to find our own ways.

Sadly, a stash of vodka reminds me of the time when Shawn, Maggie and I would sneak out to the barn, of all places, and have a quiet drink. Or two. Or three.

Just when I thought I knew how grief works.

Well, I guess I don't know shit about anything.

 **Hey guys, here's chapter two! I hope you like it! I will be updating later on this week, probably Saturday or Sunday. Please, tell me what you think. I'd like to know your thoughts, ideas and even some criticism; it's all welcomed! Hope you enjoy what I'm doing with this story so far! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! New chapter, hope you like it. Let me know what you think! We'll meet up with Rick and the gang soon! (soon = next chapter) Thanks for sticking around! :)**

"Quinn, what the hell are you doing?" Maggi asks me as she closes the door behind her. Of course they told her I know now. And of course, she refused to listen to my polite request not to be interrupted.

It's Maggie. Rules don't really apply to her. And I think having her with me might not be such a bad idea.

"I'm drinking green tea and vodka, what else does it look like?" I say from my spot by the window, not even turning around to look at her." Sorry 'bout the vodka. I'll make it up to you. I guess." I mumble and I take out another cigarette. I'm not rationing any more, not now. Not with everything I just learned. I need vodka and a cigarette, as I stare out of the window, right at the barn. It truly is one hell of a view." Why haven't you told me?" I ask her, still not looking away from the barn." I get it why Hershel didn't say a word. He didn't want me to, well, react. Patricia and that kid were following his lead. Beth was too, probably, but I think she might be too scared to say it out loud. And I'm wondering, what's your excuse? I mean, I know Hershel must have told you to keep your mouth shut, but it wouldn't be the first time you go against one of his orders. And, I mean, it's always been you and me. We were the ones who stuck together. We were the ones who took the blame when the other one was caught. We had each other's back. I would have thought you would trust me enough to share this information with me. I mean, it's big. It's not like you didn't warn me it'll rain or something. You knew James died, you knew Annette and Shawn are… those things, and in the barn, and you chose not to tell me. And I wonder why." I mumble.

Everyone else has reasons. I may not like them, I may not agree with them and yes, I may be a bit angry with all of them, but they had their reasons, and I'm reasonable enough to remind myself of that before going ballistic. And I'm sure Maggie had her reasons as well, she must have, but I don't see how any of those reasons could be big enough. Over the last hour, I was sitting here, drinking and just staring at the barn, focusing more on the fact that Maggie didn't tell me, than on the fact that my stepmother and stepbrother are as good as dead. And I went over it all in my head, trying to find a possible reason that could be good enough, that could explain it all, and I don't have it. Maggie and I share a trust, a trust I have never shared with anyone in this world. She knows everything, literally everything. I thought that it wasn't one sided. A part of me still wants to believe it wasn't one sided, but damn, I just can't shake off the feeling of being stabbed in the back by the person I trusted the most in this world.

I was so focused on that, I didn't even try processing the fact that Annette and Shawn are gone.

"It wasn't about trust." Maggie tells me." You know I trust you more than anyone."  
"I hate to break it to you Mags, but it sure doesn't feel like it." I mumble, taking a sip of vodka. Strong.

"Well, that's the truth. It wasn't about trust." She says and I finally look at her. She's not happy. In fact, she's as far away from happy as possible. I don't remember ever seeing her looking this troubled.

"Than what was it about? I'm willing to listen, to hear you out, to understand, because I really need to. Annette and Shawn are dead and I need to know why my family, or, more specifically, you, decided to keep that a secret from me. Just tell me why." I tell her. I want to know the reason, I need it.

"You just said it." She tells me with a shrug." You think that they are dead." She explains.  
"Let me tell you something, Maggie. If you'd seen the things I saw, if you did the things I'd done, you would say the exact same thing. I understand that accepting the fact that they are no longer with us isn't something that you're ready to do, but for fuck's sake Maggie, really? When you look at them now, you really see that they're still human? That someone can show up with a magic pill or vaccine and that they will go back to the people we used to know and love? Do you really see that?"

"I don't know what I see or think anymore."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're going to have to make up your damn mind!" I snap at her. As soon as I snap, I realize I should not have done that." I'm sorry if I'm not telling you this in a nice way, but what is the nice way? The only thing worse than what happened to James is to keep them like that, in that condition. Cure or no cure, its torture to them. And isn't it torture for us as well? I don't even wanna mention the level of danger that we're in with two of those things in the barn, even if they used to be our family." I mumble, shaking my head. They could get out of there any second. And we'd be dead. All of us, we would die in a matter of minutes. It's not safe. It's not safe anymore.

"There's more." Maggie mumbles.

"More? More of what?" I ask her.

"It's not just Annette and Shawn." She tells me.

"Yes, I know. At this point, half the world has turned into those things."

"No, I meant in the barn." She tells me. My eyes go wide." There are more of them in the barn."

"Define "more"." I tell her, and when she doesn't respond straight away, I know it's bad." Jesus, what the hell did he do? Did he put the whole neighborhood in the barn?!" I snap, and the look Maggie gives me says it all." I was blowing it out of proportion!" I yell." Maggie, how many? I need a number!"

"I don't know. A dozen, maybe?" She says. Now, this is the point where I go ballistic.

"A dozen?! Are you fucking kidding me? Does he have any idea how dangerous it is?! We are outnumbered by them, and they're right next to the fucking house! If the barn doors break or something, we're dead. We're all dead! Does he have any idea how dangerous those things can get? I don't care if they're Annette or Shawn! I don't care! They are not human anymore! They're as good as dead! And they'd rip us all apart and literally eat us, just like they did with James!"

"He thinks they are human and that there is a cure, and I'm pretty sure that you yelling at him won't make him see things your way." Maggie tells me and I shake my head.

"It's not my way, Maggie. It shouldn't be my way or his way. It's just the way things are now. It's not about me being right and him being wrong. It's about the reality, and how deep in shit the whole world is. They bombed Atlanta. I had to kill those things to make it out alive. It's not something I wanted to do, nor is it something I particularly enjoyed, but it had to be done. I wouldn't be here if I didn't kill those things. And I did it only because they almost got me. Believe me, when you are face to face with them, you can tell that they are not human. The Annett we know and love would never hurt Beth. That one, the one in the barn? She would rip her apart. It's not the same. They are not the same. The sooner we all come to terms with the fact that we lost them, the better it would be for us." I mumble, throwing out my cigarette out of the window. Hershel will kill me if I keep on doing that, I have to stop.

"You killed them?" Maggie asks me. Of course, she focuses on the part that makes me sound like a monster. She didn't see it, not the way I did. I wish she did, because we wouldn't be having this talk. On the other hand, as a loving sister, I'm glad she didn't see it. It's a double edged sword. Do I tell her the truth and all the gory details or do I try to keep her sheltered. I'm not Hershel. He can try to protect them from it. I would rather have them scared and scarred, but alive. Even if that makes me a monster.

"Yes. Out there, it's either you or them. It's either your family and loved ones, or them. James saved me and I saved him. Until I didn't save him. It's not really a choice, Maggie. Not if you want to live to tell the tale. Not if you want your family to stay safe. And this? What Dad is doing right now? That's not safe. If they get out, we're dead men walking. Not them. We're the dead ones then." I tell her.  
"He says that the barn is safe."  
"And I'm sure it is. For now. But what will happen if all of them head for the door? What will happen if 12 of them go for the door at the same time? Do you think it'll be strong enough to hold them back?"  
"What's the other option, Quinn?" Maggie asks me." You say they need to die. Fine. Do you think Dad will kill them? Or Otis? Would you?" She asks me.

"The fact that I'm not out there right now should show you that that's not my plan." I mumble.

"Then what is? What is your plan?"  
"I don't have it yet. But sitting here, being bait? That's not what I want to do. And let me tell you, Maggie, if they get out, I will kill them. I don't care what that makes me. If they go for you, or Beth, Dad, I will kill them. I just don't think I'll survive long enough to keep you safe. They'll get me before I get them. 12 on one. Jesus, he's crazy. If he's doing this because he doesn't want to give up on them, does he really thing he's doing them a favor?"

"What do you mean?" Maggie asks me. I wish I was as clueless as she is. As all of them are. I wish I still had it in me. I suppose seeing James being ripped up alive in front of me was a true turning point.

"Think about it. Is this what Annette would want? Would she want to be kept that way? And what about Shawn? You know what he was like, come on! He was a realist, just like I am. He would be the first one to kill them if they would come after us! They wouldn't want to be kept in that state. Especially if they could harm us, which they can. We both know it, Maggie. I think Dad knows it too, deep down."  
"Do you really blame him from not accepting this?" She asks and I shake my head.

"No, I don't. It's not about blame, not at all. I get it. They're my family too. I get it; I know why he doesn't want to see things in such a way. But if he doesn't get more practical or realistic soon, some of us might actually die. That's not something I wish to see, and I know it's not something he wishes to see either. That's the way it is now. It's pure disorder, every man for himself. You do what it takes. I won't have any sleepless nights because I killed those things. If I didn't do that, I wouldn't be here, talking to you. I don't regret it, at all. It wasn't a choice, not if you want to live, not if you want your family to live too. It's not a choice anymore. The world has taken that choice away from us."

"You really believe it won't get any better?" She asks me. I smile.

"Yes. I don't like saying that, but yes, I really believe that. It won't get any better. If anything, it'll get worse. No one deserved this. Is he saying it was God's will? No God would allow this, Mags. Everyone is dead, dying, or they're pretty darn close to it. How can I make you see that without pushing you all into it? I sound like a lunatic, like a chick who's lost her mind because her leading guy died, and the more I try to deny that, the crazier I sound. But I'm not crazy. I'm just scared."

I burst into tears. It's all mixed up now. Grief, worry, fear. I'm one big ball of negative emotions. The conversation took a complete turn; I wasn't giving Maggie a lecture, she was consoling me.

No matter what I do or say, they will have an explanation. They will say it's the grief talking. They will say it's my lack of faith in God, that that's the reason that I don't believe in a cure, in a better tomorrow.

When all it actually is... its experience. Nothing more, nothing less. It's just a couple of days of doing shit you wish you didn't have to do.

And I'm a lucky one! Who knows how many people are out there! I get to be safe, catch a break.

Now, safety is off the table because my Dad is a man of faith who doesn't want to be a widower again.

…

"So, you feed them?" I ask and Patricia nods." You willingly give them living chickens that we could use. Whose eggs we could use every day, and who we could it as well?" I ask and Patricia nods." And you catch them?" I ask, looking over to Otis." You risk your life by getting closer to them, so that you can catch them and bring them all the way up to here? And put them in a barn?" I ask him.

"I suppose that is one way to look at it." Otis says. This all is getting more bizarre by the minute.

"And you are the mastermind behind this whole "Save the world" operation?" I ask Hershel.

"That's an incredibly cynical way of looking at it, but yes." He says.

"As much as I don't agree with it, I can understand why you held onto Annette and Shawn. If I put aside the fear and anger I feel about you doing such a thing, I get it. What confuses me is that you are slowly, but surely, working on expanding the business. Why fill it up? Why do that if it brings us in even bigger danger? Why do that to strangers?" I ask him. Yeah, that's what's fucked up about this whole thing.

"Don't you think that everyone deserves a chance to be saved?" He asks me. Great, he's going to morally challenge me. He's always been a champion in doing just that.

"Okay. Let's say there is a cure. Even if I have a very good reason to say that there's no cure, let's just say there is, for the sake of this discussion." As say as I take a seat on the other end of the table, right across of him." Someone shows up with a cure. We cure them. It all becomes peachy and fine. Now, for the sake of this discussion, let's say that there is no cure. Hypothetically, let's say that there is no cure. Can you do that?" I ask, and this time, it's his turn to stare.

"Alright. For argument's sake, let's say that there is no cure." He agrees.

"So, there's no cure. What are we to do then? When we have a barn full of them? We cannot keep them there until the end of time. It's dangerous. And even if it was safe, it still costs us, a lot. Otis is in danger every time he goes out there. We are wasting valuable resources. It's not rational." I say, shaking my head. Fully aware that I am simply wasting words, I keep on talking. I have to keep talking, that's the only thing I can actually do. Even if it is in vain, I have to keep on talking.

"Could you live with yourself if you… put an end to it, and we find out there is a cure?" He asks me.

"Actually, I think I would. Because until the day that cure comes, we are in danger. Every time one of you walks into the barn to feed them, even if they are out of reach, they are in danger. Otis or whoever is in danger when they try and capture them. We are all in danger, just being here, as close to them as we are. Yes, I'd probably hate myself, all the way to hell and back, but I would be able to live, because I would know that what was done was done in order to protect those who are still breathing."

"What you are suggesting is not an option." Hershel tells me.

"Dad, I'm not suggesting anything. I'm literally not suggesting anything." I tell him.

"I know what you're thinking."

"Yeah, and you are failing to notice that I'm actually not doing anything. Do I think they are dead? Yes, I do. Do I think it's incredibly stupid and dangerous to keep them close to us? I know it is. I don't think, I know. When… When we were on our way here, we were attacked. One of those things, or humans, as you seem to think. It attacked us. James pushed a steel pipe through it to stop it from killing me. A steel pipe. And that thing kept going. It didn't fall, dead. It wasn't even injured. It kept walking and trying to get me. It didn't stop until we hurt it's head. Tell me, would a human being be able to walk after it's been pierced in the gut by a steel pipe?" I ask him. He, of course, says nothing. I look at Patricia and Otis. I look at Maggie, who's been quiet ever since I asked them for this conversation. None of them are saying a single word. They know that nothing they could say would fix the damage that I just made. They have no response, no defense. And ironically enough, I know that they're not convinced.

"One day, one of us is going to get hurt. It'll either be from those in the barn, or from those on the outside. We'll get hurt just like Annette and Shawn did. And when you see it for yourself, when you try to stop them from hurting you and when they still keep going, you'll know. You'll all know. So I'm not gonna waste my words anymore. This is what we're doing now. You want to keep them there. I don't. I'm the minority here. So I'll go along with your thing. I'll let you put everyone in danger, because I tried to stop you and it didn't work. But Dad, I'm sleeping with one eye open, and so should you. Also, I should warn you, if that barn opens, and they get out, I'll do all I can to stop them. Sadly, I'm probably gonna die in that process, but maybe that's what you need to see. I won't hold back. If that door opens, I'll do all I can to protect you all. And I won't be doing it to prove a point." I add.

I wish I was smarter, smart enough to know of a tactic to show them what things are like. Well, a tactic other than putting someone else, or myself, in serious danger. Sadly, I don't have that amount of intelligence. All I could do was speak my mind and hope for the best.

I know it didn't work. I knew it wouldn't work even before I started speaking. That's no surprise to me. Still, I had to do it. It had to be done. And maybe, if I do it, a little bit, every day, I might just get through to them. No throwing fits, starting fights or yelling. Just one or two sentences each day.

By that rate, I may be able to get to them in a year.

It needs to be more aggressive, but not too aggressive. It needs to be careful, but not too careful.

Basically, I'm in trouble.

Never have I thought that I'd be in a situation when so much would depend on me. Or, to be more specific, on my ability to convince people of something. If they were a bit weaker minded, I would have done it by now, but they are smart people. Smart, capable people. That are in denial.

Denial seems to be more dangerous than stupidity.

I need to break one of them. Just one of them, one that could help me with this. I only need to break one of them, and I know exactly who that is. I have to break Maggie.

Maggie is as far away from week as one could be. She's a strong girl. She's been through a lot. I'm not the only one who lost a mother. I'm not the only one who challenged Hershel on a daily basis. Maggie might have been through more, staying here for more than I have. If you dismiss Maggie, you're mistaken. That girl can lie her way out of anything. Give her a good reason, and she'll destroy you.

She'll know I'm trying to break her, and that's exactly what my plan is. I'm not going to insult her intelligence and try to play mind games with her. I'll be straight forward, black and white.

And I'll do it. It'll take me some time, probably more than I'd like, but I'll do it. I'll break Maggie, and once I do that, maybe Hershel will be rational enough to listen to her, if he isn't listening to me.

"Now, if we agreed to disagree, do you think that I'm allowed to move around the house?" I ask Dad, knowing now that I wasn't sentence to room arrest from my own safety; the longer he kept me away from the family, the longer it would take me to notice that two are noticeably missing.

"I suppose you are, yes." He says with a nod.

"Good. I'm starving. Who wants lunch?"

…

"Whatcha doin'?" Maggie asks, and when I turn around, I see her and Beth, smiling on my door.

"Nothing, just looking over the CD's I have here. I mean, I love Shakira, but Jesus Christ, if I knew this was the music we were stuck with, I would have brought my record collection." I say and both of them start laughing." Yeah, laugh all you'll like. We'll go bilingual after days of "La Tortura."" I mumble.

"Nice word play." Maggie grins.

"Excuse me; some of us are already bilingual apparently." I chuckle." Yeah, there are some good things here, but we're mostly gonna be stuck in my pop faze. I'd never thought this day would come, but please tell me you kept on steeling my CD's even after I moved away?" I desperately ask Maggie.

"Damn right I did." She says." But for now, surprise us with your love of pop." She tells me as her and Beth jump down on my bed. Okay, so we're doing girls/sister night. Fine by me.

"Fine, just be careful what you wish for." I warn them before going back to the CD's. It takes me about 20 seconds to find one mix tape with some fairly embarrassing content. I laugh as I put the CD in my ancient player. I never thought I'd use that thing ever again, not with all the Ipod's and Ipad's in the world. I grin when Maggie starts laughing when "Dilemma" by Nelly and Kelly starts playing.

"I actually remember hearing that one when I was a kid." Beth says and Maggie bursts out laughing.

"Oh honey, you don't remember it the way Quinn and I do." She tells her as I jump on the bed next to them." I made out with Alan Hayes to that song." She adds and this time, I burst out laughing.  
"Christ, you have a memory like an elephant. And we were pretty late to the "Dilemma" party, weren't we? We were like 10 when it was out. It was a damn good hit, wasn't it?"

"I wonder where Alan Hayes is now." Maggie mumbles, looking almost worried.

"We lost her." I announce to Beth, who just giggles.

…

We barely fit on the bed, but that hardly stops us. Our feet are up and leaned on the wall, and we're lying on the bed. We lose track of time as we talk, laugh our asses off and listen to some pretty questionable music. And I can't remember the last time I had this much fun.

"What I love the most is that Shawn was always just as guilty as we were, but Dad and Annette never knew." Maggie says with a big grin." He could always slip out of their fingers."  
"Yeah, but he also saved our assess plenty of times. And let's be honest, we were worse." I tell her.

"The two of you were basically legends in the school." Beth says and I turn to look at here.

"Were we now?" I ask and she starts laughing.

"Yeah." She says, nodding her head." I remember when I first started. All the teachers would give me a look when they read out the name Greene. By the time they realized I wasn't trouble like the two of you were, I think they were kind of disappointed." She says while still laughing.

"We weren't trouble." I say but Maggie lets out a snort laugh.

"Yeah, we were. You stole Dice's clothes from the locker room and left them out in the parking lot." She says and I start laughing when I remembered Dice, our friend, covering his precious parts as he was running to his truck, where I was standing, waving his pants about. I was lucky Dice could take a joke.

"Okay, okay, enough about that." I say, desperate to change the subject." So, Betty. Jimmy?" I ask her.

"Not you too." She grunts. Wow, not the reaction I expected." I've been with him for two months, and everyone's acting like we're married or something."

"Beth, the world's ending out there." I tell her, trying hard not to laugh." You can't exactly kick him out."

"I doubt she wants to. He annoys her so much that Dad's spends half a day chasing them around."

"Oooh, Beth's all grown up." I say in a teasing tone, making her blush.

"Stop it. I don't want to dump him, but, you know." She says with a shrug. She's just as crazy as we are.

"I hate to break it to you, Beth, but if you want to dump him, having sex with him might send him mixed signals." I tell her. Beth goes full red, and Maggie's laughing so hard, she's making the bed shake.

"We're not having sex." She snaps at me." We're just… you know, making out. I'm 16." She mumbles.

"That didn't stop Maggie from doing it when she OUCH!" I snap as Maggie hits me in the stomach." Hey, I'm saying it like it is. It's not my fault you didn't wear a chastity belt." I grunt.

"Just because I did it when I was 16 doesn't mean she's ready to do it too." Maggie tells me.

"I didn't think it was a given, for fuck's sake. Jeez, you're strong." I add, still feeling pain in my stomach.

"How old were you? You know, when you did it?" Beth asks me.

"Well, she might have waited a bit longer than I did, but that doesn't mean she didn't thoroughly explore the territory before that." Maggie interrupts.  
"Fuck you, Maggie." I say and we all start laughing." I was 17. But Beth, you know that means little, next to nothing. I mean, we were both ready when we did it. I don't regret it. It just hits you. Someone's ready when they're 16; someone's ready when they're 20. The only thing you need to know is that it's totally and completely up to you. And FIY, it doesn't get really good for a while. At least it didn't for me."

"She's right." Maggie grunts as she rolls around." My only real good one was the last one, Ryan."

"Why do it then?" Beth asks.

"Well, it doesn't mean it's bad. Even when it's mediocre, or bad, it's pretty good." I say. Even to myself, I sound like an idiot. That's the way it was for me. It was okay until James. Then, then it was amazing.

"The only thing that really matters is to not let Jimmy pressure you into it." Maggie tells her and I nod.

"Jimmy? Pressure me into sex? I like the guy, but he wouldn't know what sex was even if a naked Playboy bunny locked the door after entering his room." Beth mumbles, and in less than a second, I am crying with laughter. I've underestimated this chick; she's more like Maggie and me than I thought.

"How the hell did we end up talking about sex and dating in the middle of the apocalypse?" I ask as I wipe away the tears from my eyes. My stupid rhetorical question ruined the mood instantly.

"You really think the world's ending?" Maggie asks me, and after a few seconds, I nod my head.

"Well, shit." Beth mumbles next to me. That's all it takes; little Beth saying a bad word, and the three of us are laughing again. But the laughter dies down, and when it does, I take each of them by the hand.

"Look. Yes, the world is ending. And yeah, let's face it: that sucks. But we are… we are three bad bitches. Greene girls are as tough as nails. We're strong, stubborn, and yeah, maybe a little bit crazy, but we're tough as nails, I promise you that. We'll kick the shit out of the apocalypse." I add with a smile.

"Well…. we were always swimming against the current, so why stop now?" Maggie asks. I look over to Beth, to find her smiling at the two of us.

Yeah, we're in trouble. Still, I know, we'll kick the shit out of the apocalypse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Thanks for reading! I'm writing the next chapter right now, so you'll have another chapter pretty soon. I hope you like the story so far. If you do, tell me what you think. Us writers, we live on feedback. So please, let me know what you think. I'm open to suggestions. It'll get more interesting now, I promise you that. Hope you like this one! :)**

I stare at the oven, my face glued as close to the door as the heat will allow. I was looking at it as if a surgeon might look at his patient, once he opens him up, looking to see what is wrong. I was overreacting, I know. It's not as if I was making a soufflé that can go flat within a second. This was just bread. Tasty ass bread that I have made at least 20 times before. Yet my eyes are glued to the little loaf, as if I was making it for the first time.

"It's not rising." I hear Maggie say. I suppose that the word "threatening" could describe the look I gave her.

"It's not supposed to rise." I tell her, turning back to stare at the loaf.

"I might not be a top chef, but I do know that bread is supposed to rise, Quinn." She tells me.

"It's not supposed to rise if you don't put yeast in it, Mags. Yeast is the thing that makes the dough grow."

"I know what yeast does, Quinn." She tells me, smiling. Of course she does. How stupid of me to actually try to explain something.

"Yeah, well, this one has no yeast. That's why it isn't rising. You have to wing it sometimes. The fewer ingredients, the better. At least for our cupboards." I tell her.

"Quinn, we have yeast. I brought it here like a week ago, and I didn't bring just one little bag." Maggie tells me.

"I know we do. And that was good thinking." I tell her with a smile." But there are a lot of us here. And we eat bread almost for every meal. I can try to maybe make some pasta as well, or we can cut down on the carbs, but we need food, and we're gonna eat bread often. There's no harm in saving on a little bit of yeast every now and then. I just wish that the same could be said for flour." I mumble, looking back at the small loaf. At one point, we'll be out of it. While Hershel may have animals, fruit and vegetables on this farm, he does not have any wheat. Therefore, we have nothing to make the flour out. All of the stores in the town will end up empty at some point.

"We have what we have." Maggie tells me, shaking her head." There's no more flour in any of the town stores. I'd have to go a bit farther. I don't think it would take me long. I'm sure some of the stores after the high school are at least half full. No one dared to go there, not after the school was overrun." She tells me.

"Yeah, that's why you're not gonna go there unless it's life or death. And flour is not life or death." I say and she smiles." Besides, this is going to be super tasty. With the olives in it, you don't really have to eat anything else with it. It's a pretty decent breakfast if you ask me." I tell her.

"Olives?" Maggie asks. Her face is questioning me just as much as her voice is.

"Yup. Don't worry, it'll be super tasty, I made this before. Olives and rosemary make a good mix in this one. And you said it yourself; the essentials are practically already gone. That means that we are left with anchovies, olives, hot sauce and jerky. And thanks to you, cigarettes." I say with a big grin. Two days ago, Maggie returned with a backpack full of cigarettes. For me to smoke and for her to steal every now and then. I wanted to do a cartwheel and hug her until the next day, that's how happy I was.

"Yeah, lucky us." She jokes." Since when have you gone all Martha Stewart?" She asks me.

It's a legitimate question. Sure, I knew how to cook a little bit before, but I was always in the background while Annette or Patricia took the lead. I knew how to prepare enough dishes so that I don't starve, but it was hardly something I truly enjoyed doing. Like many other things, that changed when I moved to London.

"You know I didn't really have a job when I first moved to London, to live with James." I tell her, and she nods, knowing all too well that that was not a good period. I might have been happy as hell with my guy, but everything else was, well, shit." I had a lot of free time. I would walk around London, trying to find an interesting place where I could kill my time. I wound up at the market one day. Mags, it's nowhere close to what we imagine as a farmer's market. This was huge. You could easily get lost in there, that's how huge it was. I loved it there. The food was super fresh, colorful. There were so many fruits and vegetables I've never seen before. And the fish! It stinks for miles, but boy, was it tasty. When you have all those things at your disposal, it's kind of rude to ignore them."

"You went full on Martha Stewart." She tells me, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'll see you complaining when you try this." I say as I open the oven, ready to take the loaf out. Damn, the smell hits me. Maggie's gonna be sorry she dissed the bread.

"Hello girls." Dad says as he walks into the kitchen." Quinn, that smells amazing." He tells me and I smile at him.

"Thanks Dad." I say." Is everything okay out there? Barn secure?"

"It's all just fine." He reassures me.

I ask him the same question every day. Just once, but I ask it every day. Is the barn secure?

He answers every time. I can't say how sure he is in his answer. For all I know, he doesn't even check the door, even though I find that one a bit hard to believe; Hershel might be wrong, but he's nowhere near stupid. I'm still sticking to the conclusion I came to before; he might keep things from me, but he would never lie. Never.

With no real solution, plan, or even an outline of a plan, I had to take a more passive approach in convincing my family that we're as good as dead just now. I don't talk about it. I might give a little hint, every now and then; I mention something that had happened while I was trying to get to the farm, or a thing or two that made me believe that we're doomed. I would mention how we need to be careful with the food, so that they have it, in the back of their minds, the notion that we are feeding those things with animals that we could eat ourselves. I go on and on about continuation, letting go and dealing with loss. That way, the word "acceptance" might just be stuck in the back of their mind.

That's the only thing I do, really. I have no other options. If I barge in the barn, I'm a dead girl. And if by some miracle I survive, Beth and Dad would hate me until the end of my days. Maggie might too, although I think that she has a stronger forgiving streak. Until I come up with a better plan, this is what I'll keep on doing. And maybe, just maybe, it might actually work for me.

Or we'll all be dead soon. Which is not a scenario I find impossible.

"I was thinking, Dad." I say, and I already see his expression changing." Maybe next time Maggie goes to town, she can take me with her. I want to do something, to help around in any way. I know the town pretty good too. Not to mention that the two of us would bring back a lot more stuff with us." I tell him. He might not want to agree with it, but it's not like I'll stay back if he says "no". I'm still gonna go through with it. This is not a real question even; it's more of a "heads up" for him. Not to mention that my arguments do make sense; Maggie and I could bring back at least two more backpacks. That means neither one of us would have to go back to town soon.

"Are you sure you really want to do that?" Hershel asks me.

"Yes, I am. I want to help. And I'm ready for a tiny road trip. I've been cut off from the rest of the world long enough. I'd rather not go back to pure survival, but I think I can handle one trip to the town's 7-11." I tell him with a smile.

"Alright. Better the two of you together than one of you alone."

"Don't worry Dad; I'll keep her safe." Maggie tells him. My eyes go wide.

"Excuse me. Older sister, right here." I say, raising my hand.

"I know, I know. It's just, you're kind of new to this whole supply run thing..." Maggie teases me and I totally fall for it. I'm ready for a fight.

"Girls, come on." Hershel says, shaking his head." Take it easy. Go, run along, do something. Anything. You did all you had to do today." He tells us.

"Dad, when the world's come to an end, you can hardly go and watch the latest Chris Pratt blockbuster." I tell him.

"Who? What?"

"Never mind Dad." Maggie tells him, shaking her head." Come on, let's go." She says, grabbing me by the hand and I follow her out of the kitchen. I do run back to peak through the door.

"Don't you dare touch that bread before lunch!" I give Dad a warning before Maggie pulls me back. Yes, we are in our twenties.

…

I forgot just how difficult it is to do farm work. It's been a while since I've done this, and boy, is it hard. I think I might have strained a muscle while carrying buckets of water back to the house.

When I was still a teen, I would help Dad around with the animals. I kind of wanted to follow his footsteps and be a vet. I dropped that idea pretty much as soon as I left the farm, but not before he taught me a thing or two. Patricia was his assistant, I was his student. No matter how bad and awkward the situation between us was, we would work together. In silence, yes, but we worked. Even if we had a major fall out the night before. I helped in any way I could, but it's been years since the last time I worked around the farm, properly. I have to say, I did not miss it one bit.

I basically worked around more than I actually had to only because I had nothing else to do. Soon enough, there was nothing else left to do. I ended up just hanging around with my sisters and Jimmy.

"Any fours?" Beth asks me and I shake my head. She sighs and draws another card from the pile.

"Do you have any tens?" I ask her, and when she shakes her head, I draw a card. We're playing the game with such enthusiasm that we even don't say "go fish", we just shake our heads. I don't even know why we're doing it. I guess it is better than just sitting and staring at the wall, but it's not like we're having a blast over here. Maggie and Jimmy were playing with us, but it's down just to Beth and me now.

"Five?" Beth asks me any I shake my head. She's going to win, again. I even suck at go fish.

"Nine?" I ask.

"DAD!" Maggie yells from the outside, and at once, I drop my cards on the table. I am the first one to run out, and as soon as I do, I find her safe and sound, on the porch, pointing in front of her. I look and I see a person, or something running towards us. It can't be one of those things, I've seen them move and they were not fast. Besides, this one is carrying something in his arms, and he's running, pretty darn fast.

"A man with a boy." Dad says, and when I turn around, I see him looking through binoculars. Patricia, Beth and Jimmy all stand behind us, Jimmy with a baseball bat in hands. I have my doubts as him as our first line of defense, but I bite my tongue. Any kind of defense is very much welcomed these days.

"What are we gonna do?" Patricia asks and I turn to look at her. It's so evident that they weren't in it.

"We're going to tell him "bye-bye", that's all we're gonna do." I tell her, shaking my head." Are you crazy? He could kill us all! We have shelter, food, water? What more does he need?" I ask her.

"A doctor." Hershel says, and when I turn around, he's rushing towards the guy. I run after him. I can see better now; a kid, he's carrying a kid. A kid that's bleeding. And the guy's in a sheriff uniform. I run.

"Was he bit?" Hershel yells.

"Shot. By your man." The guy tells him. There's a whole lot of blood going on here on this crazy guy.

"Otis?" Patricia asks. It can only be Otis, he's the only one out there, and he did go out with his shotgun.

"He said find Hershel. Is that you? Help him, help my boy!" the guy yells. He's frantic. And despite what I just said, I run into the house right after that, and along with Maggie and Patricia, I bring him everything he wanted us to bring: his medical kit, all medicine we could grab, towels, pillowcases, everything. I run into the bedroom as Hershel tells the man that the kid's still alive. I step away from them, not wanting to make it a crowd. Fucking hell. How can you say no to a man who shows up on your doorstep with a wounded, unconscious kid? Apocalypse or no apocalypse, you can't close your door to a kid that's just been shot. And by a member of your fucking family? This is going to push us in all the possible ways.

"Rick, I need you to give us some room." I hear Dad tell him, but the guy isn't listening. I step in.

"Rick, is it?" I ask him, and he nods. In all honesty, I don't think I have ever seen someone look as scared and frantic as this guy does. To be fair, I never saw a guy whose son just got shot." Okay, Rick, I'm going to need you to listen to me for a second, okay?" I ask and he nods." You need to do what he says. If he says to give him some room, you need to give him some room. He's gonna do his best to save your kid, okay? Just give him a little bit of time, step outside, okay?" I ask, and once again, the guy looks directly into my eyes. The pain is almost transferred. It's so genuine; I feel a twitch in my stomach in the worst way possible. The guy, Rick, stares right at me for a few seconds, but then he nods. Slowly and with a lot of hesitation, he leaves the room. I jump right back into helper mode, as I take from Maggie the IV bag she was holding. The kid does not look good, not one bit. He's losing color, and I can only imagine how weak his heart is by now. By the looks of it, he's shot in the abdomen. I don't know what Otis was doing.

There's no way it could be anything other than an accident. Otis, quite literally, wouldn't hurt a fly.

For fuck's sake. If you have a hurt kid, all is forgiven. Sure, he can kick us out of our own home and kill us, but he had a hurt kid, a kid that was dying, so all is forgiven. And you still can't close your doors to it.

Call me crazy, but I don't think that guy would have enough strength and common sense, not while his kid is as bad as he is. Nah, he's good. I'm not buying the sheriff uniform, but he's not going to hurt us.

"Can you help him at all?" I ask Dad, in the lowest voice possible. No matter what the answer is, I don't want this kid's dad to hear us. It's bad enough as it is. And Hershel isn't responding. And to me, that's a response on its own. He can try to help him, but who the hell can say if it'll work or not.

I snap out of it when I hear footsteps. I look up from the boy, and I see Rick walk back into the room, followed by one guy and Otis. Otis looked shocked, fiddling his hat in his hands, but I focused more on the guy following Rick. He did not look at all of us at all; he was just looking at the boy. He too was, well, in pain. Not like the father, but I could tell it was not easy on him either. Is he his uncle?

"Do you know his blood type?" I hear Dad asks, and I pull my focus back on the boy. I have no idea what needs to be done, but whatever it is, I'm pretty sure we don't have the things to do it at our disposal. Hershel's a fucking vet, and Patricia and I know only the basic basics, Maggie knows even less. Not to mention that the first aid kit won't be enough. Hopefully we'll have the blood, at least.

"A positive. Same as mine." Rick tells him, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. I'm A positive as well.

"Good. Don't go far, we're gonna need you." Hershel says, and gives me a look. I nod. Of course I'll help.

"What happened?" I ask Otis, who looked so confused. I don't think I've ever seen him so freaked out.

"I was tracking a buck." He tells me, not looking directly at me at all." The bullet went clean through it."

"The deer slowed down the bullet, which certainly saved his live, but it didn't not go through clean." Dad says. Shit. Double shit. The bullet is still in the boy, there's no exit wound. I'm no doctor, but I've seen my fair share of "Grey's anatomy" and "E.R." to know that it's a whole lot easier to fix things if the bullet is no longer in the wound. I know enough to know that this little guy is in big trouble now." It broke up into pieces." Hershel says. Fuck, it's even worse." If I can get the fragments out… and I'm counting six."

Six. Six bullet fragments. There's no way this kid can handle someone picking out six tiny pieces out of his stomach without anesthesia. Heavy anesthesia too. This kid's going to die; he's not going to make it.

I hear Otis explaining the whole thing in more detail, but I don't really listen. I just wonder what we're going to do with a kid and his entire fucking family shaken and angered with grief. Otis shot the boy. Sure, it was an accident, but whose going to say that to a grieving family? I'm not going to volunteer.

"My wife doesn't know. My wife doesn't know…" I hear Rick crying. Well, shit. They have a group.

We have to help the kid. There's no chance in hell we're going to lift our hands up and say okay, this is not our trouble, you fix it. Not to add that it is our trouble, since Otis is the one who put him here in the first place. But for fuck's sake, how many of them are there? I don't know what the hell happened out there, but he obviously has a wife, and I highly doubt he would leave her alone. The kid, the wife, the two of them that are here, and at the very least, one more, probably highly capable person. Shit.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to get out now." Hershel tells them, but neither one of them move. I pat Maggie on the hand and give her the IV. I go to the two of them, and I look at the other guy, who looks like he's keeping it together a bit more than Rick is. It's understandable, but we need them sane now.

"The two of you, step outside, okay?" I ask him, and he nods his head." Get him out on some fresh air. Feel free to use the house. If you're hungry, there's food, there's water. We have running water so you can clean yourself up, okay?" I ask, looking at Rick this time around, as he is still covered in his son's blood, which I imagine is not an amazing feeling." You're not going to want to see this, so go outside, take a deep breath. And like he said, don't wander. I'm A+ but we might need more blood." I say, and the other guy nods his head, reassuring me that he'll listen. The last thing I want is for the two of them to run around our house and property, but they can't stay in this room. At least this time, they listen.

"I don't want them getting too comfortable around the house. Beth, Jimmy, keep an eye out for them, okay?" Hershel asks as soon as the door closes, and Beth and Jimmy listen to him at once." Don't make them feel too welcome, Quinn." He warns me. I can't believe he's using this against me right now.

"Do you want to kick the kid out too?" I ask him, and at once, every head in the room snaps, giving me a warning glance." They're here. And judging by the looks of this little one, they might stay here a couple more minutes. If we agreed to help the boy, we can't kick his dad out." I say in a low voice. I don't want those two guys to hear the conversation that's going on in here. They don't need to know any of this.

"Hershel, I nearly killed the kid." Otis says." We need to help." He tells him. I wasn't reasonable at all.

"Quinn, give the IV bag to Patricia. I'm gonna need you and Maggie to hold the boy down." Hershel says and we follow his instructions." He can't move. I'll kill him if he does." He says and I press the boy's arm.

As soon as Hershel started examining the wound, the boy woke up, and he was screaming his lungs out. I was talking to him. I don't even know what the hell I was saying, but I tried to calm him down. It did not work at all, not one bit. As I knew it wouldn't, but when you hear a poor little boy screaming from pain, it is your instinct to try and make it better, and if you can't, then at least to try and reassure him that it will get better soon. I was talking to the boy on and on, not even sure if he can hear me at all.

He was kicking and screaming and crying. I was one inch away from laying down on him to stop him from moving. Maggie was helping me, but pretty soon, she had to go and find Rick as the poor thing just kept losing more and more blood. It was at that point that it all started turning into one big ass mess.

Rick was crying, the other guy was holding the boy down and trying to calm him, Hershel was trying to pick the bullet out, Maggie was running around and playing nurse, and I almost had to slap Rick in the face when he started yelling at Dad to stop. Before he could make another move, I slammed the needle into his vain and took his blood. The kid's going to need a lot of it. I'll probably have to give it too.

When the boy fainted and Hershel patched up his wound temporarily, I decided I've had enough. Dad and Patricia can do it without us, myself included. And I needed to catch some air, at least for a minute.

I leave the room through the other door, knowing that the living room is too packed for my taste, and I really, really need to be alone for a little while. I pace around the house, trying to realize how the hell we are supposed to get out of this mess. How can we help the boy? Dad took out one fragment, just one fucking fragment, and the boy barely died in our arms while he was doing it. I have no clue how he will take the other five out. Not to mention that we're not even sure there's five for sure; there may be more, a lot more for all we know. And even if he saves him, and I'm not a believer in miracles, who can tell how long it will take for the boy to recover! And we can't just let them go with a boy who's still in recovery, can we? Dad's not thinking about that right now, as he's trying to save the kid, but my mind is racing in his stead. And again, who knows how many people they're going to bring into this.

I sit on the steps and I light a cigarette. That's the only thing I can do at this point, and it's not helping.

I look at the barn. How can I not, when it's right in front of me? This could be my chance. They are all in the house, busy with helping the kid, scared he won't make it, scared that Otis's shot could be fatal, as accidental as it was. Not a single person in this house is thinking about me, where I am, what am I thinking, will I do something or not. Not a single person. I have the perfect chance, right here and there.

But to do what? To march in and kill them all? With what? The bat Jimmy had in his hands? I wasn't even aware that we had a bat in the house, but what does that change? As soon as I could bash one head in, two or more of those things would be eating on my limbs? Otis's shotgun, the one still in his hands now, the one with which he hurt the boy? Or just my bear hands? While I may have a lighter in my hands, I have to remind myself, for the millionth time, that fire wouldn't do anything good. I couldn't control it, the barn would be up in flames in a matter of seconds and it could easily spread all the way to the house. The fire and smoke would probably attract more creatures, both alive and dead. And let's not forget, I have seen a large metal pipe go through one of those things and it kept on walking. They only dropped when they were hit in the head. Fire might not harm them at all, and we'd end up with undead monsters on fire. While this might be a perfect opportunity, there's nothing I can do but sit here and watch the window closing in on it. I'm not going to have this kind of chance, not anytime soon.

I'm so useless I don't even make an effort to dramatically kick the dust as I pace around again.

It takes me three cigarettes to find the will and strength to go back in there, only to find them ready to go. Maggie brings me in on it; the boy has internal bleeding and Dad needs to operate, which is not an easy thing to do, especially if he reacts like he did before, which he definitely will. And the boy won't be able to breathe on his own if he's under. Which is why Otis and the other guy are going to try and find the equipment. My old high school was used as a medical shelter. The same old high school that's been full of those things for days. Otis is, of course, leading the mission. I didn't expect anything less from him. And much to my surprise, Maggie's getting ready to go. She barely has a chance to say where.

"I'm going with you. I'm not letting you out there alone. This isn't a discussion, Maggie." I warn her.

"I've been to the town, Quinn. I know what to do. I know the road, I know the woods." She tells me.

"Yes. Yes, you do, and so do I. And I've been out there. Now, if I'm telling you you're not doing this alone, I mean it. You can ignore me but I'm just gonna follow you. Listen to me, if only just this once." I tell her, and I am being dead serious. Otis being out there is going to be bad enough as it is, but I am not letting my sister go out there alone. This is different. This is not just taking a horse to the town that has so far been relatively safe. We have no clue what we could find once we get off of our property, beyond the fence. And this group, we have no idea who the hell they are. We're risking it with them? Sure, fine, okay, I agree. But I'm sure as hell not going to let my sister go alone to wave the white flag at them.

"Dad might need your help." Maggie says and I just shake my head. It's not going to work this time, no.

"No." Dad says, surprising the both of us; I had no clue he was listening in." Patricia will be here if I need any help, and Rick can give some more blood if need be. I'd be a lot calmer knowing neither one of you is out there at all, but two of you together is much better than just one of you." He tells us, but at this point, I'm pretty sure he's just talking to Maggie. And to think I used to be the irrational one of the two.

"You get the horses ready. I'm pretty sure they like you more than they like me." I tell her. I do get a look before she steps outside, but she doesn't object. I take a deep breath and realize Hershel's giving me a look. It doesn't take me long to realize. In this situation, I'm Hershel and Maggie's Quinn. Like it or not, I sounded a whole lot like my father just now, and his look was telling me just that. I sigh.

"It's hard not to sound like you when you're always oh so reasonable." I snap. He rolls his eyes, but I do see a hint of a smile. I don't have time to bond over this little thing; I need to get ready for this little trip.

I change into jeans and I borrow Jimmy's bat, just in case. I wait for Maggie to bring the horses here; it's been years since I've been in that stable, and I'm not sure if any of those horses remember me. Hell, I'm not even sure if any of those old horses I have a history with are even alive anymore. I light another one as I wait on the porch, watching Otis and the other guy, short Terminator named Shane getting ready.

"Hey, Otis." I say as he walks by. He stops." I'm not good at this emotional shit, but please be careful. We need ya. And not just that. You're family. So, just be careful, okay?" I ask him and he smiles at me.

"'Course I will. You're gonna need someone to steal your smokes, won't you?" He asks and I chuckle. It's then that I see Maggie approaching with two horses. I think I recognize Sally. I don't know the other one." Hey, Quinn, you be careful as well. I know you've seen it, but, you know." He says and I nod. In these situations, there's not much you can say to anyone. On one hand, you do not want to say goodbye as you don't really believe it's a goodbye. And saying it would make it sound so final and hopeless. I am fine with hopeless usually, but not when a man who I think of as an uncle is going in that kind of a situation. And, of course, on the other hand, you kind of need to be fully aware that this might actually end up being a goodbye without the goodbye. You don't want to say it, but you also don't want to end up regretting not saying it. It's not a double edged sword; it's a bomb without the right wire to cut. All you can do is just give this mini speech of reassurance that all will be well, no matter how hopeless it feels and actually is." See you in a few." Otis tells me and pats me on the back, before going back in the house. I have had enough of these moments, so I just walk towards Maggie and the two horses.

"You ready?" I ask her as she's getting on the other horse, the one that I don't know. She nods at me with a small smile, which was enough for me to get on the horse and just go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Guys, Merry Christmas! I wish you all the best and I hope you are having a lovely day. I'm happy to see that this story has started to pick up, finally. I hope you like this chapter. If you do (and if you don't), do tell me what you think. And once again, I wish you a Merry, Merry Christmas; hope you enjoy my present :)**

"Do we even know where we're going exactly?" I yell at Maggie as the two of us ride through the woods.

"They were near the old church when they spilt up!" She yells back." They can't be far from there. And if we don't find them, they have some people up on the highway!" She yells, and at that, my eyes go wide.

"Some people? How many of them are there?!" I yell, but this time, she does not respond. Two things go through my head. One, there are more people out there. They have a large group, whether we like that or not. And two, there's no chance in hell I'm going up on that highway. Not for all the money in the world. I lost James up there, and for all I know, he can still be up there, in a different form. And that is not something I would like to see. If it comes down to going to the highway, I'm not going to do that.

This was not a joy ride, and Maggie and I could hardly have a chance to talk. We were on a mission; bring the boy's mother to him as fast as possible. To Maggie, it was a whole lot easier than it was for me. I can't even remember the last time I was on a horse, let alone going this fast for this long. I didn't forget how to do it, thankfully, but I was hardly having the time of my life here. Still, I had to do it. The only other option was letting Maggie do it alone, and I was not ready to let her do that this time.

Otis and that other guy, Shane, must already be on their way. There's no chance they'll get back before we do. Well, if we don't find Rick's wife soon, they might. But the area isn't that big, we can cross it in no time. Especially if Maggie keeps riding this fast. I'm basically just trying to keep up with her at this point.

We got to the church, and we both called for Lori, to no answer. We yelled, from the top of our lungs, and no one responded. If we were just yelling, I would understand if they didn't want to respond. But we were yelling her name. She would have responded to that. But for all we know, she could be dead.

I do not think we should get into the church and neither does Maggie; neither one of us makes the move to go inside it. If anyone was in that church, alive or dead, they would have heard us and walked out.

"They could be anywhere. And they're probably moving about. We need to find them fast." I tell her.

"Do you think we should split up?" She asks me, and all of a sudden, we were kids again. Before I went full on rebel, I was being the big sister; I was the one holding Maggie's hand and leading her through life.

"No, of course not. The whole point of me joining you was for you not to be alone. What good would it be if we were to split up now?" I ask and Maggie rolls her eyes at me. Yup, we're back at being kids." Nah, I'm not leaving you. So you can just pick a direction, because we have to go somewhere." I say.

So we go to the west. Why, I have no clue, but west is as good as any direction. We're not that fast now, not anymore; if we were to charge through the woods, the horses might get hurt, and both of us could end up on the ground, broken bones and everything. We took it slow for horse speed, but it was still a hell of a lot faster than just walking. If Lori isn't walking in the opposite direction, we'll find her.

"How many people do you think they've got?" Maggie asks me, and for a few seconds, I was silent.

"More than I'd like. Lori's not alone, we know that. At least one more person. And "others by the highway". That means at least two more. I don't know if Dad has the number, but we'll be dealing with at least 5 functioning and probably strong adults. They needed to be strong to make it this far." I say, shaking my head. I overhead them mentioning Atlanta. They probably took the same road I did, with James. And I would imagine their road wasn't much easier. You have to be strong to live through that.

"God, what are we going to do? I mean, if Dad saves the boy?" Maggie asks me and I let out a chuckle.

"Well, hopefully, they will pack up and live, but I'm too big of a pessimist to actually believe that." I say. I don't give her any other ideas, or theories. That would be too much for her to her, and for me to say. And Maggie's not stupid, far from it. She knows exactly what I'm thinking, what I'm fearing right now.

Dad thinks we could sit and wait for a happy ending at the farm. While I don't see a happy ending as a realistic possibility at this point, there was no denying that the farm really is the best we've got. And our numbers, our family? We could do it. Hell, we could live out here for the rest of our miserable lives. Dad, Maggie, Beth, Otis, Patricia and me. And Jimmy, too. The happy ending may not show up, but I liked the idea of sitting it out on the farm, even with no end in sight. It's as safe as it can get. And it's a long way away from any passer byers. But more people? More people who are also complete strangers to us? I'm not sure we could survive the winter, let alone years on end. And winter is coming. Stupid Stark motto.

"I don't know how Dad is going to handle all of this." Maggie says, shaking her head. "It's too much."

"Yeah, well, he was running with a bleeding boy in his arms. I can't blame him from not saying no to that." I say. There's no way in hell Hershel Green would have closed his door to an injured boy, not to mention that Otis is, accidentally, the cause of the injury. Hershel never would have closed the doors and I wouldn't want him to. I want those people away from us as possible, but not by putting the boy in more danger that he's in." Lori!" I yell, from the top of my lungs. We wait, but again, no one yelled back.

So we keep on riding. A little bit faster with each passing minute, yelling out Lori's name every second.

"I swear, if we don't find her, I don't know how we'll return back there." Maggie tells me after at least half an hour of riding through the woods. I want to tell her that this is not really that big of a problem for us, but I don't. I mean, Rick's in enough mess as it is. And the boy might die. The very least we could do is bring him mother to him, to see her when he wakes up, or to console Rick if he doesn't. I'd like to act like this is none of our business, but it kind of became our business when Dad opened our doors to Rick.

"Easy, we won't go back until we get her." I say and as soon as I stop talking, I hear a loud scream. Both Maggie and I stop in our tracks." It's north from here." I say, still hearing a scream coming that way." Let's go. Don't wander from me." I say and I take the lead, urging the horse to go as fast as she can. All of a sudden, I was the one leading the way, and not Maggie. I prefer it that way; if anyone will fall into a trap today, it should be me first; giving Maggie a chance to run for her life. So I just keep charging.

I urge the horse, and soon enough, I see an opening. I see someone, a woman, lying on the ground, still screaming her lungs out, as one of those things is coming her way. I don't stop, I don't even stop to think about it; I grab my bat from the saddle and run her way, hitting that thing as hard as I could on the head.

"Are you Lori? Lori Grimes?" I ask her as she's trying to catch her breath, looking at me in total shock.

"I'm Lori!" A woman says and I turn around to see the rest of them; two more women and two guys.

"Rick sent us, you gotta come now." Maggie tells her and I turn around to see her right beside me now.

"What?" She asks us, and I can see that all of them are looking at us like we are completely crazy. I can't say I blame them; we must look crazy. And it really is very strange to see now people all of a sudden.

"There's been an accident. Carl's been shot." I say, talking as fast as I could. Lori's eyes go wide.

"He's still alive but you've gotta come now." Maggie says, and Lori still looks very much in shock. We need to move!" Rick needs you, just come!" Maggie snaps and finally, she starts walking our way now.

"Whoa we don't know them!" one of the guys snaps at Lori." You can't get on that horse!" He yells.

"Rick said you've got others on the highway, the big traffic jam?" I ask and the other guy just nods as Lori gets up on a horse behind Maggie; good, she's a much better rider than I am. It's safer.

"Go back to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox, the name is Green." Maggie tells them before urging the horse and riding off with Rick's wife holding on to her. I look at the group in front of me; the scared woman still lying on the ground, the guy looking at me in shock, the other guy looking almost angry, but definitely not happy with the situation and another confused woman. They're not as strong as I imagined them to be, but they're hardly weak. It's like I said; they have to be strong, if they had made it all the way up to here. There are more of them than I thought there'd be. Not to mention that they still have part of the group on the highway. I take a deep breath.

"Don't forget to close the damned gate behind you." I say, before ridding away after Maggie.

I do not rush as much as I was rushing when we left the farm. I can see Maggie in front of me, going as fast as possible. She needs to get Lori there, but I don't have a Lori in the back. Still, I try not to lose her, as I can imagine what it might look like to Dad to see just Maggie showing up and me nowhere in sight.

I slow down even more when I see the farm and Maggie stopping in front of the house. Otis's truck is not there at all, which means he and the other guy have not yet returned. And that's not good.

We did not think of what we'll do if they don't return. We would lose Otis, and hell, I don't think Dad would be capable enough to keep the boy alive overnight, not without the equipment. I guess Rick will try to go. I wonder if I should go too, if need be. I'm probably the most capable one of the Greens now, and definitely the best shot. But that doesn't mean I'd like to go. Or that I will go, for that matter.

We still have a bit of time. And it's not so strange that Otis and that guy hadn't showed up yet. My old school is overrun. Even if it's not that far away from here, doesn't mean it was easy to get in or get out of it. I do not want to panic ahead of time, and I sure as hell don't want anyone else to panic either.

I take the horse back to the staples and I stay there for a little while, again thinking how I have a perfect chance to end the barn. Now I have a bat, and what good does that do to me? Nothing. I'm as useless as I was the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. But the situation's gotten worse.

There's a lot more people in danger now. I can't same to shake that now. What if one of them wanders in the barn? I doubt they'd have a reason to do that, but what if? How will their group react if one of their people is killed by the monsters Dad keeps in his barn? Sure, it's not awfully nice of him to put his whole family in danger, but we don't really have a choice, and these people do. But they don't know it. Just like they don't know what kind of danger they could be in. I can't help but wonder how many days we've got before it all goes to shit? One? Two? Three, if we're really lucky? Or maybe it happens tonight.

After a while and a few cigarettes, I realize that I should probably get back in the house. Patricia may be help enough to Dad, but we never know. And if the boy needs blood, Dad might as well just take it from me; Rick's given enough. He's weak, and I don't think he could handle getting any weaker anytime soon.

"How is he doing?" I ask Dad when I walk into the bedroom. I see Rick and his wife talking in the corner of the room, not really listening to us." Will he make it?" I ask in a whisper and Dad just sighs.

"I have to operate. And it needs to be soon. Look at his stomach." He says, and when he lifts up the sheet off of the boy, I know why. It's blue. He's good internal bleeding." Otis and Shane need to be back soon, or else…" He stops, but I don't really need to hear the end of that sentence. I know what it is.

"Does he need any more blood?" I ask, and as I do, I roll up my right sleeve, already getting ready for it.

"No, no." I hear Rick speak, and I turn around, to find him walking my way, his wife holding him up." I'll do it. You have done more than enough. I can't ask you for it." He says and I give him a small smile.

"No one's asking." I say in a low voice." You can barely stand and I'm up and running. Sit down, try and get a little bit of rest, and let me do this. And then we'll eat, 'cause he's going to need you strong." I say. It takes Rick a little while to nod, and Lori mouths a silent "thank you" to me, and I just nod my head, making my way to Patricia, to let her take my blood. That's the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to.

I hate needles. I hate them in me, I hate having to put them in someone else, and I was lucky enough not to have to do it many times over the years; I helped Dad and Patricia every now and then, but that was nothing. Because of my hatred towards needles, I never was a blood donor, but if there's a time and place for that to change, it's here and now. So I give Patricia my arm, and I let her take the blood, looking in the opposite direction the whole time, taking deep breaths and pretending it's not happening.

I felt a whole lot weaker as soon as it was done, so I made my way to the kitchen, where Maggie was making some sandwiches for us. I grab one, and in total silence I sit at the kitchen table and eat it. I'm not even hungry; I'm one step away from being sick to my stomach, but I now I have to eat it. So I do.

"It's getting late." Maggie tells me. We were sitting in silence for minutes, both of us being very distant, distant from this whole thing, distant from everything that's going on in the other room and around us.

"Let's not worry too soon, okay?" I say, taking a big sip of the ice cold orange juice she gave me.

I've been over this in my head. Maybe they got a flat tire. Maybe it's not easy to get into the school, or to get out of it. Maybe they didn't find what they were looking for, so they went off to search at some other place. It could be a lot of things. I don't want to start thinking about the worst, even being the full pessimist that I am. In a situation like this, I can only trust Otis's bravery and capability. And the other guy, Shane, he's determined as hell; he doesn't want that boy to die. No matter what happens, I know that the two of them will be back, mainly because someone else is depending on them. Shane wants the kid to live, as does Otis. Hell, Otis could never live with the guilt of causing that boy's death. I can sit here and worry about them with Maggie, but I know they'll come back. They have to. There's no other option, not for them, not for us, and definitely not for the boy." They'll be back. Believe me on this one, we'll have that respirator." I say, not even sure if I'm telling it to Maggie or to myself.

"And then what?" Maggie asks. I give her a look. A look that means "don't ask that question". I don't know the answer and I am very scared of what the answer might be. I don't even want to ask Dad if he can do it, it's hard enough to have the parents of that little kid asking him that question. But hell, it's an apocalypse, isn't it? We're drowning in shit at this point. We won't even notice if we go a bit deeper.

Let's just wait for Otis and Shane. Let's just wait for them before we go into full on panic mode.

"Then Dad will do the best he can to save the boy." I say and Maggie gives me a look." Yes, I know how risky it is. So does Dad, so do his parents. But it's the best shot they got. No, it's the only shot they got. The only other option is to leave the boy as he is, and we know what that would lead to. This is not an easy situation Maggie. And believe me, I have no idea what's coming, but it sure as hell won't be easy. As of now, it can only get worse. So we might as well do what we can, while we can still do it." I say.

"We are safe here." Maggie says, and it sounds as if she's reassuring me.

"For how long?" I ask, and she just shakes her head at me. Just when I think I'm making some progress with her, she goes right back into denial mode. I can push, I can pull, but every time I make one step forward, she pulls me two steps back. I wish I could believe in Dad's pretty picture as well, but I can't. I have seen it, and pretty pictures just aren't realistic anymore. Maybe these people can help me show them, show my family that it's not gonna get any better. They see with the boy that it can be dangerous, but not just how dangerous it can get. These people have been out there, for even longer than I have. Perhaps, having them here will help me put things into perspective for my family. But the boy has to live first." Damn, this is one long ass day." I mumble before chugging some more of the orange juice, pretending it was vodka.

….

I did not think it was going to be a long ass night as well.

I thought that by nightfall, Dad would already finish working on the boy, and we would know if he would be okay or not. I thought that it'll all be fine before dark. And the reality? It's not even fucking close.

I can slowly feel panic rising up in the house. No one is saying it, not out loud, but it's palpable. Otis and Shane are not yet back, and they should have been back long ago. Enough time has passed for us to say that yes, they really should have been here by now, and no, this is not normal at all. The kid is getting worse by the second. And not to mention the fact that no one from their group showed up at the farm, even though we told them exactly where to find us and what's going on. It's been hours. It's been hours.

No one said a word, but I could see Dad measuring the boy's blood pressure with a worried look. I could see Lori and Rick looking on edge, I could see Patricia pacing around, and stealing glances at the clock hanged above the living room fire place. I could see Maggie's leg jumping up and down. I even noticed that I was running a hand through my hair, which I do when I get nervous, and it's not something I notice every time it happens. And the clock, fuck. The worst part about silence is that any noise that hits you is going to be much louder than it actually is. When you go about your business, the last thing you will notice is a ticking clock, you just don't pay any attention to it. But now, the ticking was deafening.

At least Beth and Jimmy are not in the middle of this. Come to think of it, they've been MIA for hours, but in the house. I don't even want to know what they're doing, so long as they're being safe. The last thing we need right now is a pregnant teen. A baby on the way is the worst possible thing right now.

Now I started pacing. My mind is making worst case scenarios, and I don't like them, not one of them.

I wonder when I'm going to run out of cigarettes. Maggie brought a lot of them, not even looking for a specific kind, and hey, I don't have the luxury of being picky. But I'll run out eventually.

For fuck's sake, I'm in the middle of the world ending and I am thinking about cigarettes. I'm crazy.

"How is he?" I ask Dad when he shows up in the kitchen. He just shakes his head at me." Otis and that guy should have been back by now. What are we going to do if they don't come back?" I ask. Someone has to. It's a legitimate possibility. They should have been back by now, and they're not. And I'm scared.

"Rick and Lori will have to make a decision." He says and I just nod. To let the boy die for sure or to try to do something and very possibly, kill him in the process. Such a wonderful decision to make, isn't it?

"You completely ignored the other thing." I say, and Dad doesn't answer. I sigh and walk out of the kitchen. I don't want to say it either, I don't want to be the one who does it, but it's pretty obvious that they should have been here hours ago. And we're just pretending like nothing is going on. How lovely!

I join Maggie on the porch, sitting on the chair next to her, and for a while, we just sit in silence.

"What are you thinking?" She asks me. I lost count of the times she asked me that over the last few weeks. I lost track of time to how many times we were sitting in total silence. We seem to be doing a lot of that recently. It never was like that, not before all of this happened. Hell, Maggie and I under the same roof? We couldn't be quiet for a whole minute. I don't know if it's because we're older or did the whole situation we're in caused this. I don't know, but I don't like it. We're too quiet for my taste.

"I'm wondering what Chris Evans is doing right now." I lie without batting an eye. Maggie stares at me.

"I'm sorry?" She asks, looking at me like I might be crazy. Who knows, I probably am. But why not?

"No, I mean it. I wonder if he's safe." I say and Maggie chuckles." I mean, he looks quite capable. I think he could be safe. And if not, well, maybe I could try and find him. Who knows, maybe we're meant to be?" I say and Maggie is full on laughing." The saddest part is, I'm only partially joking. Like, it's perfect. I save his ass in the middle of an apocalypse and he loves me until one of us is killed. It's perfect." I say, and by now, Maggie's done." We should just hit the road, directly to LA, and see what Chris Evans is up to. Maybe we can pick up Bucky as well for you. Or Adam Levine. And if they're all dead, I'm sure we'll find an actor or two." I say and I can see tears falling down her cheeks as she laughs herself to tears.

"I had my doubts over the years, but you have officially lost it." She tells me, barely speaking now.

"Hey, call it what you like. I just know Chris Evans might be looking for someone to keep him warm at night, and I am just happy to volunteer if I'm needed. We need to help each other." I say, poker faced.

Then Maggie starts laughing. I don't think I've ever heard her laughing this hard. And after a while, I join her. But the laughter dies sooner than either one of us would like.

"Thank you. For making me laugh." Maggie tells me with a smile and I smile back at her. I scoot closer to her and throw a hand over her shoulders. We used to be like this before, every night, every night before I left. We'd go through our shit, but at the end of the day, we'd end up on the porch, talking, laughing and just having fun. It never felt as responsible as it felt now. When she leaned onto me, when I physically took over of the protector, I knew it was written down. I don't believe in God, I don't think I believe in destiny either, but this is as clear as it can get. I am protecting her. For the time being, I am the stronger one. Fuck, I was the stronger one. I was the one paving the road so that Maggie could take that same road with fewer obstacles. And that's the way it is. That's the way it's always been. And I don't mind it. I don't mind it at all. Hell, I like it. I love my sister and I'd do anything to make it easier for her. Whether it's to get Dad to back off and not meddle in her life, or to keep her safe from these monsters. I have to do it. I need to protect Maggie at all costs. That's my one purpose. I pull her closer, knowing I'll do whatever it takes. I'll do it for everyone, but Maggie's my person. No one could ever be as important to me as my baby sister is. Beth could. Beth is. But Maggie is Maggie. I'd save them all, but I'd save Maggie first. I need to end that barn. I need to keep my sister safe and destroy it.

"You know James and I made a list?" I ask her and she gives me a strange look. I chuckle." It's stupid. Very stupid, if I'm being honest. But we got drunk one night and we talked, and we ended up making a list of people, celebrities, we could sleep with, with no repercussions." I say and she smiles at me." I had Orlando Bloom, Jensen Ackles, Johnny Depp, Gary Oldman, and a bunch of other actors I had crushes on through the years. He had a few names as well. Jennifer Aniston, Kylie Minogue, Monica Bellucci, Megan Fox, and a bunch of other celebrities. Chris Evans was on my list, that's why I remembered it. So, if we were to run into one of those people, and they just happen to be up for a one night stand, we could do it, and it'll all be forgiven. I mean, it's a stupid thing. It's such a stupid thing, but it was a thing we did. I mean, I didn't run into any one of those men, he didn't run into those girls, and the chances of that ever happening were less than minimal. But we did it. We made the list. We did a lot of stupid things. And I'd laugh. My, I would laugh. No one could ever make me laugh as much as James did. No one. No one ever did, no one ever will. I can't even begin to tell you how horrible it feels to lose that. I… I'm empty. I'm empty, Maggie. I have a reason to live, and I'm livin'. I am, I really am. I'm not going through the motions; I'm not doing it just for someone else. I want to live; I'm doing it because I want to, even if I didn't think that was the situation. And for a while, I really didn't. I want to live. But at the end of the day, I go back to my room, I get ready to go to sleep, and I realize I don't have him anymore. It hits me that he won't ever make me laugh again. I realize he died, in a way, to keep me safe, to get me here. We were going to the farm because I wanted to. It was all the same to him. He knew I wanted to get here and he helped me do it. He did it for me. And I'm selfish enough to wonder what life would be like without him. I'm selfish enough to think of myself, because frankly, I'm not the same person. I am not the person I was when I had him. A big chunk of me is just… gone. I don't have him anymore. And I miss him like hell." I say, bursting into tears as soon as I stop talking. Putting feelings into words, it has a horrible effect. I feel naked, completely bare of any kind of security layer I had protecting me.

"God, Quinn, I'm so sorry." Maggie whispers as she hugs me. She's the one hugging me, not the other way around. She's the one trying to keep me together, not the other way around. I wish it wasn't like that. I wish I could be stable enough, I wish I didn't need her energy to keep my own energy up. But I do. And after a while, that may change, but right now, I'm not mentally stable on my own. I'm just not.

"Shit happens." I say as I pull away, wiping away my tears. There's not much use in that, as other tears just follow the first ones." We are all gonna die someday. We say "forever", knowing full well that there is no such thing. No one lives forever, no one stays together forever. One's going to die first. We don't think it, but deep down, we all know it. I knew he was going to die someday. I knew I was going to die too, maybe even before him. I knew it. It's a given. We all die. We all die and don't think about that while we live. Not too much, at least. It will cross our minds, but we'll shake it off. "No dark thoughts" and shit like that. And then someone dies. That's when it hits you. Even if you knew it'll happen one day, it hits you like a shit ton of bricks, right in the fucking head. Even if you knew you were gonna lose them someday, you could never imagine, not in your wildest dreams, that it would happen that soon. I only got 4 years with him. No marriage, no kids, no late night fights about our kids' grades, no parent teacher conferences, no wedding anniversaries, no watching the kids grow up to become amazing people, no growing older together. It hurts, Maggie. I can't describe to you how much it pains to lose the love of your life. They ripped him apart right in front of me. That's why nothing Dad says or does could ever change my mind. Once you see the love of your life being ripped open and eaten right in front of you, you don't hope for a fucking cure. You know life's shit and nothing can be done about it."

"There has to be something more." Maggie says, shaking her head." There has to be."

"I'll tell you that when the love of your life dies right in front of you." I say and her eyes go wide.

"Quinn, I'm sorry, I did not want it to sound like I think you're over reacting. I don't, I really don't." She says, rushing to apologize. I smile at her, knowing that this is not something she should apologize for.

"I know. And I wish I could think the same way, I really do. But I can't. Not right now." I add.

"Maybe, in time, you will feel the same way I do." Maggie says, and I don't have the heart to tell her how unlikely that is to happen." Or, I will feel the same way you are feeling." She adds.

"With all my heart, I hope it does not come to that." I say. She's lost a lot, no one is denying it, but she has not accepted that loss. I have. I have accepted it, and coincidentally, I had more loss. If seeing it my way means she'd lose as much as I have lost, I really don't want her to see it my way.

"I don't know how…" Maggie starts, but she shuts up all of a sudden, and I look the way she's looking; I can see headlights, guessing that's what she's looking at." It's Otis." she says, jumping out of the chair.

"It's not." I shake my head, and she gives me a questioning look." We would have heard Otis's truck long before we could see it." I say, and I feel pain, genuine pain, as I see her smile drop. I crushed one of the last bits of hope she had tonight." It's probably those people, from the highway. It must be one big car, if all of them can fit. But it's not Otis." I say and take a deep breath." I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. I would not be a good welcoming committee." I say, and she gives me a small smile of understanding. I manage to smile back at her, although it probably looked like a grimace, before I walk back in the house.

We are long past the time limit for reasonable denial. Otis and Shane should have been back by now, and it's time to admit that they are most likely not going to get back at all.

But I'm not making the same mistake I made before. I'm not going to be the one who says it out loud and makes it all real. Otis and Shane are probably dead, and in a few hours, that poor boy will probably be dead too. And I'm keeping those thoughts to myself. I'll let them all make their own conclusion, no matter how long it will take them.

It hurts, more than I thought it would, but Otis and Shane are probably not going to come back.


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm back!  
I hope you like the new chapter.  
Let me know what you think! :)**

"Quinn?" Maggie called, and when I turned around, she was entering the kitchen with two men behind her." This is Glenn, and this is T-Dog." She tells me, pointing at a young, Asian guy first and then at the big, black guy, who did not look good at all. I did a double take and then realize he was about to faint.

"What the hell happened to you? Sit down." I say as I run over to help the other guy, Glenn, put this one on the chair." Call Patricia. Dad has to be with the boy. I'll help if she needs me to. Then make them something to eat, they look like they're about to faint." I say to Maggie, and she nods before walking out of the kitchen. I try to move the improvised bandage they put on T-Dog, but as soon as I do, he flinches. I didn't even touch him properly." Boy, this ain't pretty. I'm gonna go get the suture kit. Patricia can help you with it. And I'm sorry, but I can pretty much guarantee that it's gonna hurt." I say, shaking my head. I go to get the suture kit from the other room, but stop at the door." I'm Quinn, by the way. Nice to meet you." I say, before disappearing. I grab the suture kit, swiftly doing the math in my head. Glenn, I've seen him before, in the woods, but T-Dog is not the guy that was with them then. He looks a bit worse for wear now, but I'm pretty sure he's strong enough to hold his own when he's not injured. And Glenn might not look like much, but if he had managed to make it so far, I should bear in mind that he's most likely a lot more capable than he looks. We'll see how it goes. But I don't like the numbers at all.

"Where's the rest of your group?" I ask as I put the box on the table and take a seat myself. I try to take T-Dogs hand again, and once more, he flinches." You know, if you want that fixed, you have to let us see it to begin with." I say, and this time around he moves his hand right in front of me, with hesitation. I hear him hiss, but I ignore it as best as I can as I make gentle moves around the improvised bandage; for fuck's sake, they used duct tape! As efficient as it is, it's going to hurt him like hell just to take it off of his skin! I do it as gently as I possibly can, trying not to cause him any more pain." The group?" I ask.

"A couple of us are still on the high way. We're looking for a little girl." Glenn says, and I stop messing with the bandage to give him a look. What the hell is he talking about right now? He reads the question on my face even before I have a chance to ask it." That's why we were in the woods in the first place. A girl, Carol's daughter, she ran away when we were attacked by walkers. She got lost, and now we're trying to find her. That's why we went off the road." He tells me. Boy, this is too much information now.

"A walker?" I ask him, my eyebrows raised; imagining a metal walker elderly people use. Very ferocious.

"That's what we call 'em. Those things." T-Dog says, his eyes half closed." What do you call 'em?"

"Haven't really thought of a name." I say and I start working on taking of the bandage again." So you lost this girl? How old is she? Can she make it through the night on her own? When did this happen?" I ask.

"Earlier today. She's 12." Glenn tells me, and I do the best I can not to curse out loud. I bite my tongue, not wanting to ask how the hell did they let that girl run of on her own. It's a large group! Why the hell did you let that little girl go own her own? And 12! I don't want to be the Debbie Downer again, but if she can make it through the night, I'm not sure if the same can be said for the next day too!" She may get back on the high way. That's why they stayed out there. And if she doesn't, I'm sure we'll go look for her again. We'll go tomorrow, and Rick will go when your Dad saves Carl." Glenn says and it takes all I have in me not to roll my eyes. They are putting too much faith into my old man. And it's not his fault either; I heard him talking today, he is honest as ever; it's a long shot, but the best long shot they have. These people are in a really, really bad position. I'm not sure how they plan on getting out of it." Oh, I forgot. I think these might help." Glenn says, and I turn around to find him waving a plastic bag. I let go of T-Dog's hand and I catch the bag Glenn throws me. It's medicine. Heavy medicine; I may not know much, but I know it's heavy. And I'm pretty sure these are prescription drugs. Here's a silver lining.

"These could come in handy with Carl too, I think." I say, looking at a little orange bottle in my hand." Who the hell is Merle? One of you?" I ask, thinking of the other guy I saw today. I can't remember him.

"Well, he used to be. He died." Glenn said, and I take a deep breath. So, they lost someone too. Great.

"I'm sorry." I say, and just as I continue to take off the bandage, Patricia walks in. I jump up, more than happy to let her take over the wheel. One thing is clear, and that's that I need to learn more about this, about medicine, first aid, sutures and everything. Nowadays, who knows when it'll come in handy?

I leave the kitchen as soon as Patricia takes over. If she needs help, she'll call. I go outside, but this time, I walk away from the house. If I stay on the porch, sooner or later, someone will show up, and they will try to start a conversation, and I can't do that right now. So I start walking. I end up near the barn.

Once again, I have a perfect chance to end it her and now and yet, I don't have a way. It's silent. As I remember them, they were not silent. They were hardly yelling, but they made horrible noises. They. "Walkers". It fits. They walk. I'd call them "Eaters", as I do think that their ability and drive to eat us all is a bit more prominent than the danger of them walking, but it fits. And it's better than "those things".

Like it even matters. We don't have to call them; they'll show up, that's the problem.

And the girl. Man, the girl. There's a little girl running around those woods, trying to find her way back on the highway. I don't know anything about her, but if she grew up in the city, she's in for a ride. I was a farm child, and at 12, I'm not sure if I could make the night in the woods. Especially not with walkers doing the walking. I'm not even sure if I knew how to light a fire at 12. If she's a city kid, she's in trouble. Not like she's not in trouble either way. It never should have happened like that in the first place.

Glenn said that they were attacked. I get it, I've been attacked too, it's not easy to concentrate on a different person as someone is trying to eat you alive, but there are so much of them! One of them could have kept an eye on her at least! And the other kid they had, he got shot! If the world didn't go to shit, I would consider calling a social worker or something. Again, I don't know the situation, so I'll try my best not to judge. Even if they had a sheriff, his deputy or whatever, and a whole bunch of fairly capable people with them when it happened. No, no, no. I will not judge. I'll do my best not to judge.

If all ends well tonight, I'll go and look for her myself. I'm hardly Bear Grylls, but I know the woods better than the ones who lost the kid in the first place. If the boy makes it, I'm looking for her. But by the looks of it now, we're going to have to have three funerals tomorrow morning. We're in fucking hell now.

I can kiss goodbye to the idea of living it out in peace. There's going to be 10 or so new people running around. All we know is half of their names, and that they lost a little girl. Everything else is a mystery.

I touch the door of the barn and still, I hear no sound. They're still in there; I know it. I'm not holding on to the foolish hope that they just died for the second time. They're still up and running but I never would have guessed that the silence could be so eerie. And it is. It's even worse than the noise I heard them make before. The sound makes them seem less human. Whether I like it or not, one of them has Shawn's face. It's not Shawn but it sure does look like Shawn, in a way. The noise would just help me make the difference. I wish it could make a difference for my family as well. But it doesn't.

I hear the noise, but it's not from the barn. I hear Otis's truck. And as soon as I hear it, I start running for the house. I get to the house as soon as Rick, Lori and Hershel run out, followed by Maggie, Glenn and T-Dog. I stop to catch my breath, staring at the truck, wide eyed. They're back.

Shane walks out of the truck as Hershel grabs the gigantic back pack from him, rushing back to the house. I stare at the truck, only to see that there's no Otis. The realization hits all of us in a second.

"Otis?" Dad asks and I feel the tears coming. If he was here, he would have run out of that truck to give Hershel the stuff. He's not here. I see Shane shaking his head and that's it for me. That's the final straw I can take. I run into the house directly to my room.

I was a kid when I met Otis. Like a real kid, 4 or 5 years old. I met him maybe even before Mom died. He is that one wacky uncle everyone should have. He taught me how to play a guitar. He let me and Maggie steal his cigarettes. He took Maggie to Atlanta when I left. I called Maggie, to let her know I was safe, as soon as I arrived to Atlanta. The next day, Otis and Maggie were there, in front of my motel room, trying to convince me to go back to the farm. Otis would show up in front of my tiny apartment two times every month, to bring me some home cooked food, to see if I needed anything, to ask me how I am. It was him, Maggie and Annette doing it. They never admitted it, but I know it was the three of them working as a team. And when I left Atlanta and the States all together, I'd get an email from Maggie a couple of days a week, always carrying a line or two from Otis. He liked James the second he saw him. I'm sure he helped Hershel like him as well. He was that one goofy, kind, nice, supportive uncle.

And now he's dead too. I lost another family member. Patricia's a widow. Otis is gone. He's dead. And even if I was sure of that the whole day, it fucking hurts. Even more so, knowing Shane made it back. It could have been Otis. I wish it was Otis. I wish Shane was dead instead of Otis and I'm not even scared to admit it. I'm not even ashamed of it. Hell, I wish I was dead instead of Otis. Just to keep him alive.

I cry. Then I start breaking things. I push down all the books from my bookshelf, all of the CD's it took me years to collect, I push it all down, with all the strength I have in me. I push it down and I'm not done.

"Quinn!" I hear a yell behind me and I am shocked to see that it's Rick.

"What the hell are you doing here?! Out!" I yell, but he just closed the door. I was ready to hit him on the head with "The best of Oasis" right now. If it wasn't for him, his stupid friend and his stupid kid, Otis never would have gone to the school. If it wasn't for these people, Otis would be alive right now.

"Quinn, stop it!" Rick snaps at me. The way he said it makes me stop. He's angry. How dare he?" Hershel is operating on Carl. Patricia is helping him. We're not gonna tell her until they are done with Carl. Your Dad said he needs her. She doesn't know. If she hears you breaking half of your room, she'll know."

"So, I shouldn't express my grief in a way I chose because your son needs to be healthy? Like it's not enough what we already did? Otis died to save your boy, and you still ask for more." I snap.

"My boy wouldn't be hurt in the first place if it wasn't for Otis!" Rick says in an angry whisper.

"Yeah, you keep saying that! Is that your excuse for the little girl you lost too? Is that Otis's fault?" I ask." Yeah, I know about that. You ungrateful son of a bitch." I snap and Rick takes a deep breath.

"You are dealing with this in your own way. So insult me if it makes you feel any better. Just don't yell, because my boy could die too. I know what loss feels like, and I don't want to lose him too." He says.

"You know shit about loss." I say, shaking my head. In my own house! He has the decency to yell at me and tell me what to do and blame a family member I just lost for his own irresponsibility.

"And you do? You're on this farm, safe and away from anything?" He asks. I start laughing.

"Safe? Didn't Otis just die? You know what Rick… whatever's your last name. You don't know shit about me or what I had to do to get here. You met my Dad, not me. He was relatively safe here. He was the one who was relatively well protected and not so much affected with this shit that fell on all of us. And I'm happy for that, believe me, I am, but I was not here. I was not here from the start, I was not safe from the start and you have zero fucking clue what I had to do to get back here, and what I lost on my way. So don't you dare, don't you dare to try and patronize me, to try and understand me or whatever it is that you're doing right now, because I know a lot more than you think. I've seen it, first hand. And unlike my Dad, I'm not about to start a hippy cult and sing "Kumbayah my fucking Lord", because I know more than you think. I know better. So just do both of us a favor and just shut up." I say.

Even though he was acting like a major dick just now, it takes me a second after my little speech to realize that I shouldn't direct my anger to him. He's not the cause of it. Sure, he's the drop that spilled the glass, but he's not all of it. I just needed a way to get it all out. And it's all out alright, in the worst way. I fall on the bed, my head in my hands, tears getting ready to come out once again. I'm done. I'm so fucking done with all of this. I don't care if he sits here and watches me cry. Whatever floats his boat.

"Who did you lose?" Rick asks and I stay quiet. I'm not ready to talk about this with a strange who can act like a true dick when he has to." I know, Hershel told me about your mom and brother." He says.

"Step mom. Lost the real one year ago. Step brother too. He didn't tell you all?" I ask, and Rick shakes his head, looking confused. I shouldn't be surprised Dad didn't tell him about the bunch of walkers he is keeping in the barn. And I'm not gonna volunteer that information either." He probably didn't think it was his story to tell, or something stupid like that. He's like that, Dad. I love him, but the man is stupid. He thinks there'll be a cure. If he was out there, he would be singing a different song." I shake my head.

"We ended up at the CDC, Quinn." Rick tells me." We know. There is no cure. Not here, not anywhere in the world. There is no cure, and there won't be any cure anytime soon." He says. I let out a laugh.

"I think you should try telling that to Hershel Greene; you're barking at the wrong tree here." I say.

"I told him. He compared it to AIDS." Rick tells me, and once again I laugh. Oh Dad, you stupid man.

"He won't believe it until he sees me or Maggie being eaten alive in front of him. He's like that. He sees the good in people. Then again, no one's perfect, right?"

"But what happened to you? Who did you lose? How did it happen?" Rick asks and I take a deep breath.

"I really don't want to talk about it, so I would appreciate if you don't ask me any more questions about it. I was in Atlanta. I had to kill those things, walkers, as you call them, on the way. I was with my fiancé and he died. Walkers got him, just on the highway you were stuck on. And I got here. End of story."

"I'm really sorry for your loss, Quinn." Rick tells me in a low voice and I keep nodding my head.

"We're all sorry for many things nowadays." I say, wiping away my tears." You can go down now. See how your boy is doing. I won't yell or kick things down, I promise. I'll do that with Patricia once she finds out." I say and Rick nods his head. He reaches the door." Hey Rick." I call, and he turns back around." I'm sorry for yelling at you. It wasn't my place to do that and I wasn't thinking and I apologize. I can almost certainly guaranty it won't happen again, not in that way. But a word of advice too: get of your high horse. You owe us more than you think. Now we're not the kind of people who will say that, or take that as an advantage over you. I'm the only one crazy enough to say it. You owe us a lot. So at the very least, you could stop looking down on us. Your story isn't the most heart wrenching story in the world. Some of us have been through worse. And my story sure is hell isn't the worse story in the world. However bad it gets, it can always be worse. The world doesn't revolve around you just as it doesn't revolve around me. Or your wife, or your boy. Or my sister, or my Dad. We're all on the same level, swimming in the same amount of shit. So drop the self-pity, get off the high horse and just try and treat us with the same respect we treat you and your people." I say.

He's older than me. He's more experienced than I am. He is, or, he was, a sheriff. To me, he should be an authority figure. Yet I'm the one giving him a lecture. And I actually have a point. I am right with this. And I can see that he sees that. As he takes my words in, I can see that he can see that I'm right.

"I promise you I'll do my best. And I am grateful. More than you'll ever know." He says, and I bite my tongue. I'm not ready for another round. I just let him leave my room before I continue to cry with my head in a pillow.

…

When I look back on my life, on these miserable 25 years of life that I've had, I can go back far. At least I think. I have two very distinct memories, and the rest of it is pretty much a blur, at least until I started school; that's when it all becomes a bit clearer. But I have two vivid memories, both of which I can pin point in time. One happened before I was 4, and the other happened one month and 12 days before my fifth birthday. The first one is the face of my Mom. She's smiling down at me. I don't remember where it was or what she said, I just remember her smile, like the only sharp thing in a world of blur.

The second one is far more specific. It's the day my Dad told me Mom died. I wasn't even 5 years old, I don't even know if I even knew what the hell happened. All I knew was that I won't be seeing Mom around anymore. She'll never smile at me. That's all I knew. I was sleeping. It was still hot outside, the autumn was just around the corner, and Dad barged into my room, crying and basically just shouted at me "Just so you know, Mom is dead" before leaving the room. I didn't move for a very long time.

For years after that, I held that against Hershel. As a father, he should have handled that in a much better way than he did. Yelling to your child that her Mom is dead is not a way to break the news. I had nightmares with him yelling that at me. Man, that followed me. And for years, I would bring it up in a fight. I even mentioned it the night I left. It wasn't until recently that I realized why he did it like that.

He should have known better, but he simply didn't. He was in shock. His wife died. He had no idea what the hell he was doing, not then, not for days after that. I still believe he should have handled it way better, but I know now how I felt when James did. I could barely put together a coherent thought, let alone break the news to someone in a nice and gentle way. In a way, I forgave him for it.

And last night, he asked me to be with him, along with Rick, when he tells Patricia that Otis died. I did not want to do that. Hell, it was the last thing on the list of things I would like to do. But I did it. I went with him and I let Patricia hold my hand so tight that she almost broke it. Then I let her cry on my shoulder for half the night. I owed her that much. I owed Otis that much. After everything he has done for me, in all these years, the least I could do was to help Patricia, or just hold her in this helplessness.

The boy, Carl, he will recover. At least that goes to say Otis's death wasn't in vain. He died trying to save that kid, and he did it. I may be a horrible person for thinking this way, but I really wish it was Shane's funeral we're having, not Otis's. I wish both of them could have made it, but if I had to choose one…

We don't even have a body to burry. When Shane said he was gone, he really meant gone.

I wasn't there to pray for Otis. He was the one who believed, not me. I was there because I loved him. I was there because he was family. I was there because if anyone on this planet deserves a proper send off, it's Otis. I was there to say goodbye. Not to pray for his trip to heaven. Although, if there is one… Well, Otis will have a front row seat. That man had a heart of gold. It seems like that nowadays, the people with the heart of gold are the first ones to go. They will be missed. They will be missed every day.

Rick's group was at the funeral too. They are all here now, apart from the missing girl. Andrea, Dale, Carol, Daryl, Glenn, T-Dog, Shane, Lori and Rick. There are a lot of them. Nine adults, one kid that's still in recovery and one missing girl. Even if we still had Otis, we would be outnumbered.

We were all up and running. Me and Patricia were checking on Carl every now and then, as Dad was busy. And Patricia would, quite understandably, cry in the corner of the room every now and then, so I would check the boy for a fever and measure his blood pressure. Half of Rick's group was putting up a camp in the clearing in front of our house, while the other half was trying to make a plan to find that girl.

"Dad, they are crazy." I hear Maggie and I leave Carl. I give Patricia a look, as she heard Maggie too, and she just nods. I walk to the kitchen, where both Maggie and Dad jump up when they see me." Quinn, they have a lot of guns. And they were talking about that little girl, how they'll have to kill her if she's sick. They killed before. They are bat shit crazy." Maggie tells me in a serious whisper and I smile at her.

"Does that make me bat shit crazy too?" I ask her." I killed those things to stay alive. I don't believe in a cure. I think they aren't ill, but dead beyond return. I think like them. Am I crazy too then, Maggie?"

"As soon as the boy's better and they find the girl, they'll leave. They won't be waving guns about. We do not tell them about the barn, and soon enough, it'll all be over, and they'll be gone." Dad tells us.

"Ignoring the problem won't fix it, Dad." I tell him, shaking my head." But I'm above trying to make you see it my way. So just tell me when they start the search, because I want to help." I say to him.

"Tomorrow." He tells me and my eyes go wide." Rick gave a lot of blood, and so did you. I don't want either of you wandering too far. Shane's injured. They'll get organized today and go tomorrow. One of them left on his own to try and find her. And Maggie and the other boy are going to town." He says.

"You need any help?" I ask Maggie and she shakes her head." Okay. I'll keep an eye on Carl and help where I'm needed. Dad, they'll find out about the barn, and when they do, we'll be in trouble." I tell him in a low voice, so that no one can hear us if they just happen to be passing by." I might not be crazy enough to go and tell 'em, but they will know, sooner rather than later. I think it's time for you to consider the fact that they might not be wrong for looking at it the way they do. Or, maybe, I'm just as bat shit crazy as they are." I say, and when neither Dad nor Maggie have anything to add, I leave the room. I'll be of more help somewhere else. It's already been proven that I am no good in trying to make them see this situation with a little bit of common sense. Just as I thought I was getting to Maggie, she goes all crazy saying they are crazy. I'm alone in this. I might as well just grab my stuff, find a tent and join Rick's group. I have a feeling I'd find more understanding and compassion in that corner.

I walk outside, not sure what to do now. I'm not looking forward to socializing, but I don't see anyone else helping them. Granted, they're busy with other things, but these people might need help.

"Excuse me, Maggie?" One of them called, I think his name is Dale. I smile as soon as I hear Maggie.

"Quinn. Maggie's the pretty one. I'm Quinn. Dale, right?" I ask and he nods his head." Do you need any help with anything?" I ask him. I don't say that I don't have anything better to do.

"Can you tell me which well I could use? Your sister said there are five." He tells me and I nod.

"Yeah, but you could use this one. We use it for the horses, but it's just as pure as the one we use for the house." I say as I point to the second well." If you need any help, just yell." I say and he nods, smiling. At least they're nice. I'm left on my own. I see Carol and Lori working around their makeshift camp. I do not want to spend time with them. It's nothing personal; Lori's nice enough, and I'm sure Carol is too, but one of them almost lost a child, and the other one has a child missing. I'm depressed enough of my own; it wouldn't help me, or them, if we were to bond or something. So I walk around until I see Shane, and the blond chick, Andrea, I think. I plan on asking them if they're hungry, but I see them working on their guns as I approach. Dad said they won't be armed. But it's another thing to keep their guns clean.

"So, Hershel told you to give them up?" I ask, and both of them jump up in surprise when they hear me.

"Which is stupid. I'm sorry, but it is." Andrea says. I do not have a good impression of her. I mean, she's right, it is stupid, but she sounds so full of herself. And I was the one who saved her life just yesterday, with hitting that walker. And they're staying on our land. A little gratitude would be nice.

"It's his place, his rules, so just drop it. I don't like it either." Shane tells her with a stern look. He, unlike Andrea, is smart. He knows I'm Hershel's daughter. He knows I could easily run up to Daddy and tell him that the strangers are being mean to him. But I'm not gonna do that. Even if she is a stuck up bitch.

"I agree with the both of you. It's stupid, but it's his rule." I say, picking one of the guns up." Man, the one I used was a lot lighter. These boys are heavy." I say, checking out the feel of it in my hand.

"You know how to shoot?" Shane asks me, in complete surprise, and I nod my head with a big smile.

"Oh yeah. Back in London I did some training. It was just a hobby, nothing more. But I was good at it. I never thought I'd come in handy, but it seems like it did." I say, putting the one I picked up back on the table." I might be a bit rusty, haven't been shooting in months. If you are gonna do any training, let me know, I need to practice a bit. Oh, and Andrea?" She turns my way." If you don't like the rules here, I'm sure you could do well up on the highway. It's safer with a gun up there, isn't it?" I ask, but before she could respond, I walk away. I'm not sure who the hell she is, but she's not nice. Even Shane was nicer than her. I'm not a princess, I don't expect any kind of special treatment, but not bitching about the favor we've done for you would make a nice touch. And like I said, if she does not like it here, I'll be more than happy to wave her goodbye.

I'm not needed anywhere. I feel as useless as ever. And I don't want more time to think. I don't want it. I am better when I am in action, when I'm busy, when I'm doing something relatively important. I don't want to stop and smell the roses. I don't want to have more time to think about James, Otis, the barn, Shawn, Annette… it's enough that I think about that before I go to sleep, every single need. I don't want to do it now as well. But no one needs my help. Everyone has their own task and I have fallen behind.

I can cook. I will cook. There are a lot of people we need to feed, so I might as well just start doing it.

"Quinn!" I hear someone yell as I started walking back to the house. I turn around and see Dale running my way. Everyone else jumps up just as I did, as he tries to catch his breath in front of us." We have a problem with the well. Big problem. Come." He says, and we all follow him; I turn around and see Maggie and Glenn running towards us as we all follow dale. T-Dog looked very, very pissed off.

"Take a look." He tells us, pointing at the well. A few of us walk over. The wooden cover is broken. I lean over to take a look, and the smell hits me before I can see anything. And that's when I see that thing.

"Man that stinks!" I say, holding my nose as I look down again. Yeah, he's been in water for quite some time. I can't really see much, but he's bloated. He's still hungry though; he can probably smell us, as he got all excited, trying to get to us. Which he thankfully can't. but it's still moving. And it stinks like hell.

"Well, there goes our water supply." Shane says, followed by low sounding curses. And I get it.

"We still have 4 more wells, we're good with water, but we need to get that one out." Maggie says.

"We need to kill it, right now. Shoot a bullet through it's head." T-Dog says, and I turn to give Maggie a look; she's already looking at me. I shake my head. This is not the time for her to go all nice. I know she still sees these things as human, but I can't let her fight them on this one. Especially since I think they're right with this one. We need to kill it and take it out of there. Or the other way around.

"That's stupid." Andrea says, and this time, I'm with her." If that thing didn't already contaminated the water, imagine what would happen if we spill his brains into it." She tells us. I take a deep breath.

"Even if we get it out." I say, shaking my head." I agree with you, the blood would make things worse, but even if we pull it out and handle it outside the water, would you feel comfortable drinking it? I know I wouldn't. So we might as well just shoot it." I say. She has a point, as I just said. It's a bad idea. But I do not want to touch that water, let alone drink it, not if that thing was in it. I had blood of those things all over me, and nothing bad happened, but I don't want to risk it. I'll avoid it for as long as I possibly can.

"You have a point, but we're in no place to waste bullets if we can do it in a different way." Shane says.

"But do you see another way?" Glenn asks. I'm half tempted to just go and get a gun and just kill it.

"Guys, we need to handle this. The longer he's in the water, the worse it gets, and it looks like it's been in there for quite some time." Dale says. I like Dale. He seems like the most rational of them all here.

"Anybody have a plan?" Lori asks, and for a while, we all go quiet. Maybe the water could be usable, and we're in no situation to throw away any bullets. But what's the other option? It's a pretty deep well; we can't exactly grab him and pull him up. And even if we could, he's gonna try and eat us as soon as we would come close to him. It's a dead end street. I'm calling a gun. I think we should just shoot it now. I'm just not sure how Maggie would handle the idea. That's why I didn't try to do it myself.

"I have an idea. Wait here." Maggie announces, and before anyone can stop her, she runs off. I try to think of something to say, but I just drop it. No one else has a better idea, or any idea for that matter. And Maggie's plan certainly doesn't involve putting a bullet in it's head. Whatever it is, we might as well just try it. I lean over to look into the well again, and I pull back, instantly. I remember the smell, but I don't think I could ever get used to it. It's familiar; I can recall the first one that attacked me, the first one I killed, before I even knew what the hell was going on. To be fair, I'm not so sure about that one even know, although I'm okay on the moral field. It's the worst smell I ever smelt; rotting flesh. It's what you imagine death to smell like, but 10 times worse. I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I definitely hope I don't get used to it! Once it becomes normal and unsurprising, you know you're too far gone.

"God, how did this thing even get here?" Lori asks, but no one answers. I don't even want to know it.

If it wandered here, it means it's not as safe as we thought it was. I knew Otis has sporadically put those things in the barn while I was here, but none of them appeared right at the farm, not as far as I know, at least. This one clearly fell into the well; the wooden piece that covers the hole is broken in. We might know better than to be stupid enough to stand on it, but those things have no thoughts, at least I don't think they do. They have drives and needs. This one was probably hungry as hell, just wandering about.

We're lucky it didn't get closer to us, even if this is pretty darn close, too close for my liking. It just goes to show that we're not 100% safe here, even without the barn in the mix. And that's scary as hell.

We need to keep a lookout or something. The next one won't fall into the well, and then what'll we do?


End file.
